


Otherworldly – BTS

by sin_igami



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Character(s), Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Angst and Feels, Drama, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Freedom, Interspecies Romance, M/M, OT7, Plot Twists, Rebellion, Some Humor, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22880068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sin_igami/pseuds/sin_igami
Summary: Everyone matters.Some maybe less than others, always more than none.Seven beings are bound to set their priorities through their decision to unite, challenging parts of themselves they buried deep under the surface while they boil inside — both by sexual and murderous frustrations.
Comments: 35
Kudos: 22





	1. Clear Skies

Crouched above the countertop, a head full of fluffy pink locks buried in a magazine as the _tik-_ _toks_ of the wall clock accompanied the electric fan's whirs in filling an otherwise utterly silent convenience store.

Dated, partly dysfunctional fluorescent lamps provided the store with bleak lighting, as if to warn passerbys that the place would rather feed them nightmares than late night _Ben & Jerry's Strawberry Cheesecakes_. The likewise dimly lit street added less than nothing to the store's outside appeal, just like the lack of living beings on the street.

He lowered the magazine and peered outside the glass panels, exasperated.

And, still, no matter how often he doubted that fleeing to a primitive planet was a good idea, a wrecked shuttle could get him nowhere but in trouble. With that being the one and only alternative he had, Jin pressed his lips into thin lines and smacked himself with the magazine.

_Get your shit together. Not the place, not the time_.

He sighed and made his way to the freezer, grabbing a random flavour of ice-cream and a small plastic spoon, before sitting his ass royally on the freezer and steering a mindless gaze back to the wet, barren street.

Out of nowhere, a hurried silhouette came into vision, pausing to catch a breath yet still quite alarmed by his surroundings. His head snapped left and right as distressed, wide eyes watched out for... What? If someone was after him, he'd have to have an idea of where they were, instead of searching for a hint of unseen danger in the middle of the night.

The silhouette layed eyes on the convenience store, through the glass and eventually on Jin, playing with a spoonful of ice-cream in his mouth. He took strides towards the store and pulled the _push_ door open, halting one step into the better lit store. Through the fringe shielding his eyes, he peeped momentarily at the pink haired man and lowered his head before rushing to an aisle filled with snacks.

Jin eyed him. After contemplating for a spare minute of his either way endless time, he hopped off the freezer and strolled to the counter, splaying his hands on it patiently. With his side vision, he checked the monitor and frowned. The young man remained motionless and stared at the street visible above the aisle. Jin also hunched above the counter to re-examine the outside environment, only to verify things were just as lifeless as earlier, with the only variables the two of them.

The crumple of plastic wrap startled Jin, who stood straight and took a better look at the man now in front of him as he processed a couple bags of crackers and a candy bar, paid for with crumpled bills.

It hadn't rained today, but he was soaked. Damp brown hair, damp clothes, both darkened from being wet. His shoes squelched as he often shifted weight from one leg to the other. Slender hands intertwined and fidgeting, which he held closely to his chest with apprehension. He never really looked at Jin for more than two seconds each time before cowering and staring at anything else.

"Um...", He began and mustered courage to maintain eye contact with the pink haired man. "Is there a bathroom I can use?"

The clerk raised a brow and nodded to his left. Upon taking hold of his newly bought goods, he spared a glance to Jin and rushed towards the off-white wooden door on his right, soon disappearing inside.

The creak of the store's doors being pushed open alerted Jin of another late night intruder; a bit too soon for an empty night like this one. The usual was only a drunkard stumbling through the door in the early morning just to buy more alcohol, or no people at all. Jin ended up forcing himself to bring a book along for his shift, because no matter how dead the evenings had become, no one else wanted to undertake the night shift.

He checked the monitor again, eyes following the second man who entered. The young man took long strides to the counter, frowning and distressed as he scrambled through his backpack for something.

"Uh, I'm sorry for bothering you, sir, I _just_ -", he pulled out a folded piece of paper and his hands were shaking as he tried to unfold it. A tear escaped his eye as he laid the creased paper- a photograph, on the counter for Jin to take a look at.

"This-", he tapped on the photograph, "this is my best friend. He's not very well." The young man then tapped at his temples, "In his mind. I've been looking for him for a week and every time I get close, I lose him again. Could you just..." He ushered the photo towards the clerk, which Jin had made no attempt at examining and had no real will to.

He knew very well who he was looking for and where he was, but just to make sure, he humoured the young man and studied the photo.

Even if there was the slightest hint of doubt, it's now gone. This _caricature_ of the man in the photo was currently in his bathroom, the two being the same person and yet so different. With dry hair and an upright stance, he was charming and arrogant. It fit him.

To humour himself, Jin considered the two cases in front of him.

It seemed like a plausible reality to have somehow lost his mind and ran away from the people close to him. Runaways were never something rare to begin with, but someone challenged like that could feel trapped. Threatened. Unsafe.

And the other case, well...

Jin placed the photo back down and took a second look at the man in front of him. Brows scrunched together, eyes bloodshot and pained. He was biting his lips, playing with his hands as he waited for an answer from Jin.

"Is it raining outside?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired mainly by my love for the extraterrestrial, for the unknown. I love the idea that there are beautiful or ugly civilizations somewhere, much like the beauty and ugliness we have as humans. Don't hate:)
> 
> Disclaimers:  
> 1: This is my first fic on this site currently, I had made one with the same title long ago, but as an amateur writer I felt very insecure and I deleted everything, even though I had good feedback:/  
> 2: I am literally in no position to know anything about aliens and their biology (that is, assuming they exist, as a logical human being) nor am I able to just make passable stuff up as an ~amateur~. This is a dumb disclaimer, I don't think any of you reading this doesn't have in mind that this is fiction, a figment of my imagination, but I felt that just,,, putting that out there,,, would be a good idea  
> 3: This story will have action, angst, fluff, smut, some humour (I'm not that funny), generally all the things I imagine while I write it and hopefully I can help you feel the same things, but!! I have a pretty big imagination which is very good when reading a book, not that good when writing a story  
> If you liked what you read, leave a kudo, a comment, some love, bookmark it, let me know if you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it:) anything really


	2. The Truth?

"What?"

"I asked if it's raining."

The younger sniffed and frowned, and wiped some of the tears on his cheeks. "I don't- no, it's not raining. What does this have to do with my friend?"

"Well, for starters you're soaked, I mean," Jin gestured at his body and then towards the street through the window. "There hasn't been a single cloud on the sky all day. What, did you fall in a pool or something?"

Those big eyes filled with confusion, sorrow, and exhaustion took only a mere second to change, to morph into something empty, callous and unrelenting. He stood straight and scanned the clerk from top to bottom. Then, he scanned the store, piercing gaze hovering over the door to the side for just a bit longer. He returned his focus on Jin.

"Where is he?" That voice, just like his eyes, came out hollow. Raspy and devoid of any emotion.

"I've never seen this man in my life." Jin deadpaned in the same fashion. The boy didn't intimidate him. If he insisted, it wouldn't take long for him to give up searching here. Maybe.

He smiled. "That's a lie."

"Sorry, man. Can't help you."

He bent slightly over the counter and tilted his head to the side. Perhaps, in other circumstances, he'd look adorable. He looked cute now, too, but also just a little bit too murderous for Jin's liking.

"Why don't you help yourself, then? Withholding info won't look that good on you."

"You should go." Jin sighed and bore into the younger's eyes. As expected, he glared back with the same intensity. He scoured for a tell in Jin's gaze, anything that would betray him, and found nothing.

Stepping backwards, he nodded to himself. "Fine by me." And just when he had turned on his heel, ready to lay a hand on the glass door, the awful sound of an old, rusty door creaking from movement, a distant but _surely there_ sound, makes the younger man freeze.

Jin hadn't moved an inch. He gave no proof for suspicion even after the stall's door squealed like a pig. His stare was still trained on the man by the door, but the man by the door spared him no glimpse.

There was no need for him to, not even when he yanked the gun from his ribs through the jacket and blew Jin's brains all over the cigarette shelf behind him. The clerk stood still for one second before the limp, half-headed body collapsed on the floor.

Only then did he turn to look at the pretty –and unusual– red, chunky splatter on the wall and shrugged. He twirled once and salsa'd his way towards the off-white door at a slow pace, taking his time to dance along the tune stuck in his mind victoriously.

Now that he could, Jungkook noted to himself to grab a snack on the way out. Constantly chasing after a toddler had its toll, and he was feeling it alright. His eyes burned from sleeplessness and his both stomachs rumbled with complaint. Babysitting didn't pay nearly enough for such a journey.

He pressed the handle and the door didn't budge. He repeated it futilely for a couple more times and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, now. Open the door, hun. There's _literally_ nowhere left to go."

No response.

"Open it while I'm being nice to you, Taehyung. That door can't keep me out for long."

Again, nothing.

"A'ight, suit yourself," he took a step back, aimed the gun at the lock and _bang!_ the lock popped off and the door hung ajar. He pushed it completely open, scorning Tae and the tiny ass bathroom he was hiding in with a short inspection before refocusing on his target.

"Jungkook, don't do-"

"Don't do what?" He shook his head, disappointed. "We've been over this a million times, Tae. The answer is always the same."

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line. "This isn't right and you know it."

Exasperated, Jungkook rolled his eyes again. "How would you know what's right?" He cocked his gun around as he spoke, finger still on the trigger. Taehyung jerked every time he pointed it towards him. "You stole from the government a _cure_ -"

"A _weapon_ -"

"In the wrong hands, yes. It never was in the wrong hands, until now. It's a _means_ to an _end_ , nonetheless. A fruitful end."

"For whom?!"

"For _everyone_. You can't take the choice from people's hands. We aren't forcing anyone to do anything."

"You are blinder than I thought, Jungkook. They really turned you into their puppet."

"And you, what? You represent some sort of undying values of a resistance that protects its people and their rights? No, Tae. You're a rebel with no cause." Jungkook shook his head and raised his arms open, shrugging them back to his sides. "Give up already."

Taehyung focused behind Jungkook.

"Don't think about this too long there, now."

"Hi."

Jungkook screamed and jumped farther inside the toilet, tripping and barely maintaining a balance. He looked up and saw the clerk standing by the bathroom's entrance, parts of his skull still missing, but overall healed. It took a second to remember that he still had the gun in his hand, and when he did he popped more holes in Jin's torso.

Jin staggered back, peeping at his body which bled from several open, new little craters. Both Jungkook and Taehyung expected him to topple over, yet he lifted his head and turned to Jungkook.

" _Ouch!_ "

"Why aren't you dying?" Grumbled Jungkook.

"Ugh, because," Jin heaved, "I can't."

"Informative."

"Very."

"I know."

The tissue apparent from the holes in Jin's shirt started regenerating, muscles first and then skin, covering the once red patches with a creamy smooth surface.

He stepped into the bathroom as Jungkook took another step back and bumped into Taehyung's front.

"There's no more space, idiot."

"And there's no point aiming that gun at me. Give me that." Jin wrapped his fingers around the gun's barrell and Jungkook tilted it slightly upwards, shooting his head off twice before the nuisance of an undying dickhead could snatch it from his hands, and spreading brain matter all over the bathroom and himself; Taehyung had taken Jungkook as cover.

"That should keep him down longer."

Jungkook wagged his arms in a futile effort to get rid of Jin's head from his clothes. A glance in the mirror told him only a lengthy shower would do the work.

"Uh, hello? Anybody here?" A new voice rang through the store and Jungkook dragged Taehyung.

"Get out there and make him leave. I'll deal with you afterwards."

Like a disobedient kid, Taehyung resisted the pull of his fist that held him like steel claws, but he could never shake it off. Nevertheless, he struggled to free himself, just to end up facing Jungkook, two riled up lions seconds away from fighting the underwhelming match of the century.

"What makes you think I'm not gonna make a run for it?"

Jungkook smirked, agitating Taehyung further. "Since you claim to be the hero, I'll give you a choice. Run and I kill that human, or don't, and all of us go on our merry ways."

Taehyung jerked his arm off of Jungkook's loosened grasp and massaged the burning spot. "Holy fuck, would you stop trying to shoot everyone-"

"Go."


	3. Too Early For This

Jungkook's unmoved stare shut him up right away, so he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The newcomer approached the counter, visible from where Taehyung stood. A tall, timid fellow whose every move was a decision that was subtracted as soon as it was made. A baseball cap covered his head and shadowed his curious eyes studying the splatter of brains on the wall and the projection area when they fell on Taehyung and he smiled.

Taehyung breathed out. His mouth was itching to ask for any sort of help, even using him just as a distraction or a getaway vehicle, but as many times as he'd done that already, he was found and his helpers executed on the spot. He considered himself a coward, but he wouldn't let anyone else get shot down because of him. They didn't deserve it and he wasn't worth it. He walked behind the counter, careful when stepping over a small pool of blood and pink chunks, to face the customer.

"What is this?"

"Redecorating. How can I help you?"

"I– I think there's something wrong with the gas station POS. It broke my card," He placed two unequal pieces of what once was a debit card on the counter.

"Uh, I don't know, man. Perhaps you used the wrong side?"

The customer eyed him like he was an idiot. Ignorant towards some things human would fit him better. "Wrong... Side?"

"Mm, yeah."

He reached inside his pocket and grabbed some bills, "I'll just pay in cash then, if you don't mind," and gently left them on the counter.

"Sure, sure." Taehyung nodded and took the bills in his palm.

And yet, the customer wouldn't leave. They spent a good minute staring expectantly at each other, awkward smiles and all.

"Is there anything else?"

It seemed as if the question caught him off guard. His eyes widened and he scrambled to find an answer.

"Aren't you gonna give me... my change?"

" _Right_...", Taehyung searched around puzzled, and when he could not find anything that matched the customer's demand, he gave up. "You know what? It's free!"

He returned the bills and grinned.

"...what?"

"Yup! Free of charge. It's a gift. You're our lucky thousandth customer for this month!"

"But it's only the 1st–"

" _And_ –", Taehyung grabbed a random little rectangular pack from the stack behind him, one that wasn't hit with the original clerk's gooey stuff and placed it next to the bills, "one box of... _this_ just for you, too!"

The taller man reached out for them, a bit weirded out but, hey, it's free gas and cigarettes, he couldn't complain. "Thanks? I guess."

"Have a goday _– ahem_ , a good day. Have a good day."

"...sure."

He turned on his heel and exited the store, just in time for the arrival of someone else in an expensive-looking car, almost driving over him. He stumbled back and gave the driver the middle finger through the tinted windows. A pitiful convenience store in a sparsely habited area sure seemed popular in the deadliest hours of an early morning.

Taehyung cursed under his breath, peering at the awfully silent bathroom door for a moment and back at the two people outside the store sizing up one another. The shorter of the two brushed the other off, making his own way inside with elegance. Wearing all black that hugged the curvature of his body and a pair of black sunglasses in the middle of the night contrasted his fair skin, and a silver mane with blue hues crowned his head; he looked extravagant.

He hovered over different sections of snacks, the one's calculated indecisiveness piquing at the other's interest and impatience. Taehyung peeped outside out of boredom –not that a brief moment of staring at something else other than His Highness could make time go by any faster– at the fancy black sports car with yellow graffiti on the hoo–

Taehyung had a second take. The once awkward man rose up boldly from the car's side, a spray can dancing between his hands and a shit-eating smirk carved on his face. Upon looking closer, though, some graffiti turned out to be the least amount of damage sustained by the vehicle.

His Excellency, with most careful moves, set a water bottle and a bucket of ice-cream in front of Taehyung, attracting his attention. These gentle mannerisms contrasted the mute hostility he radiated.

Taehyung caught his gaze wandering to the bathroom door, where blood had started pooling. _D_ _ammit, Jungkook_. "They're free-" He shrugged. "Everything is free today."

The Prince raised his brows and scanned him through his sunglasses. "Thanks," he muttered and, before leaving, threw another glance at the door.

The next few moments progressed as Taehyung expected them to. His Majesty saw the renovated car, dropped his items while also dropping his jaw, and removed his sunglasses, his feet dragging him closer. "My– my car, my– _tires_ , what–"

Incredulous eyes focused somewhere beyond Taehyung's line of vision, evidently from having spotted the culprit a few metres farther away and he knew shit was about to go down, but there were more urgent things happening in the microscopic toilet of a pretty frequented convenience store.

He busted the door open, knocking Jungkook in the head and off of Jin's barely conscious body, careful not to step on the blood puddle.

"What the– Jungkook. How many times did you kill him?"

Jungkook rubbed the aching spot on his forehead repeatedly. He was riding the clerk's waist to hold him as immobile as possible. "Eh, lost count."

"And how is that more moral than me running off with a potential world-ending bio-warfare?" Taehyung crossed his arms.

"He can't die. Doesn't count." He lifted himself up with the sink's help and wiped bloody palms on his already quite bloodied shirt.

Taehyung dragged his fingers down his face. "You didn't know that the first five times you shot him though!?"

Jin groaned and coughed under them, curling into a ball and reaching for his throbbing throat. "You– you _cunt_."

"Don't worry," Jungkook assured and stepped away from him, pushing Taehyung backwards and gripping his wrist. "We were just leaving." To his disappointment, but not surprising in the slightest, Tae hassled and resisted his pull again. His captor paused, not trying to drag him along anymore but not letting him go either. He withered Taehyung with a scowl that said he was never going to stand down, even with their history that preceded this.

They stared at each other, hard expressions, still foreign to them, distorting their faces. Jungkook's eyes hid bitterness and anger which spilled through the painful grasp of Taehyung's wrist. In all honesty, he didn't know what he was capable of if he let himself break down, so he chastised unwelcome emotions and stifled their volume with a mask of contempt and indifference. He was to perform his duties, like his brother had raised him to. His brother, who had scorned his affections for this specific royalty and who had turned out to know him better than he knew himself. And Taehyung craved to be able to stop running away from someone he shouldn't have to and spill out the secret that had dared turn his life upside down and ate at his own life force, he could feel it.

He stopped fighting him. There was no use. He was never strong enough to keep at it against Jungkook and he lacked the energy and will for it.

Loosening his grip on Taehyung's wrist, Jungkook's fingers slid down and held his hand properly. Tight, but properly. They walked out together, both defeated by their circumstances.

"Hands where I can see 'em."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, forgot to mention: weekly updates:)  
> I write quite a lot and then I just,,, don't so I prepared many chapters in advance uwu  
> -edited-


	4. Polar Opposites

Under the weak glare of streetlights, the familiar graceful figure with the silver-blue crown stood in their path, a few metres away. His eyes, stripped of the sunglasses barrier, conveyed a determined nothingness. Chiselled bone structure, chubby cheeks, full lips, all things Taehyung had weirdly forfeited when the same man walked in the store only minutes ago. Oh, also, a miniature blaster aimed at the pair and a couple of cuffs hung on his other hand; _for_ the pair.

The first one, the less refined out of the two "customers" stepped out of the shadows, spared them a nonchalant glance and made his way back inside the convenience store. Since it didn't look like _they_ 'd get out of this situation, chances were neither would the candy haired clerk- as foolish and courteous as he was to protect a stranger.

Well, _shit_ , he needed to get some names.

"Ain't got time for this," Jungkook lifted his gun and pointed at his Excellency, who didn't need to blink twice to shoot a zap of a powerful electric current all over his body from the nonintimidating weapon, making him topple over the ground with spasms immediately. Gagging sounds left his throat as he coped for a breath from a lung that almost forgot how to function. 

The King cocked his blaster at Taehyung and raised a brow.

"Nah, man, I– I'm good. He kind of deserved it." Jungkook mumbled out a complaint.

"That's cool. Also, you're right. He does deserve it. Being in an unpleasant Minister's guard and complying to every demand, no matter how immoral, hasn't exactly created him a fanbase." He shook his head disapprovingly and approached Taehyung who offered his wrists before His Highness even uttered a word. Said man's moves stuttered by Taehyung's willingness to surrender, but proceeded to cuff both detainees.

"Uh, what's your name?" Taehyung asked, catching him unprepared yet again. He realised how it sounded by both His Highness' widened eyes and Jungkook's side glare from the ground.

"Jimin. I'm Jimin."

"I'm Taehyung."

"I know."

"Huh?"

"You can't run away with a possible mass destruction weapon and not make the news. Or, at least, the bounty hunters' ears."

Taehyung froze. Is that what they were there for? He thought perhaps they would stall his return back, only for it to happen faster and _for a price_?

"So, yerebuntyhuntrs," Jungkook huffed, barely coherent.

Jimin frowned. "Oh, oh, no. We're the authorities. Yeah, you've created a lot of buzz and we usually don't get involved in such things at all, but this time we're hired to protect you. From yourselves mostly, hence the cuffs." He turned to Jungkook, "And the zap."

"By whom?"

"That's kind of undisclosed information. You'll know when you get there."

"Okay, then. How did you find us?"

"After _Baring Day_ the human government placed extraterrestrial detectors on the markets. Pretty expensive, but we managed to get our hands on a pair. Also, you're literally the only living beings on this block."

Jimin paused his thoughts as he saw his unfortunate partner exit the convenience store supporting another man, with one arm at his ribs and the other securing a limp hand on his own shoulder.

"Huh. I thought he'd be a bit more dead than that."

Taehyung met his curious eyes' object, as the taller one dragged him to the car he presumed was their ride, and pressed his lips together. "He told us he can't die."

"... Alright. Let's get you in the car." Jimin dismissed, wrapping short fingers around Taehyung's arm and bending to _pick up_ Jungkook by _just his bicep_ , to hurl him all the way to their car. Said car was a junker way past its prime and it looked as neglected as its owner who sat at the driver's seat after settling the semi-conscious clerk in the back seat. Jimin let Taehyung enter first and sit in the middle, and manhandled Jungkook into the remaining seat, securing him with the belt. "This is a precaution. I don't believe you'll try to make a run for it, Taehyung, but I do think _he'll_ be trouble. These belts are designed to only recognise _our_ DNA prints and shock the detained person shall they fight against it."

He entered the passenger's seat only after he grimaced at it and crossed his arms, head dropping back and sighing as they got on the road and he took one last glimpse of his smoking car. "I can't believe you burnt my tyres."

"It was necessary."

"For _what_?"

"For the part. It needed to look convincing. _And_ we can blend in better with this baby."

Jimin glared at him. "I can't believe they partnered us," he grumbled, kicking trash away from him in the leg space under the glove compartment. "You're repulsive."

The biggest moron he's ever had to work with. As if they'd lose their targets if he hadn't laid his sleazy fingers on his car.

He tried to distract himself because he sensed the usual headache prodding and he didn't want it to ruin the day of a completed job, no matter the casualties, and the eerie, empty roads helped.

It's been about half a year since they were _bared_. Meaning, the existence of alien life was confirmed with proof and people in positions of power and fame were exposed as non-human. This situation garnered a lot of different reactions and media coverage; it was pretty much the only thing anyone talked about. Surprisingly, many of the reactions were positive. Some crowds found their suspicions being validated as rousing and companies took advantage of the craze, as expected. On the other hand, an equal amount of people became infuriated, terrified, up in literal and proverbial arms. A whole lot of anger and malice, a whole lot of fascination and arousal.

T-shirts, colourful alien toys, _other colourful alien toys_ , keychains, phone cases, YouTube storytimes, etc.

Guns, bunkers, canned food, _a lot of canned food_ , bear traps, land mines, custom-made _concentration_ _camps_ and prisons, _extraterrestrial detectors_ , etc.

Jimin and Namjoon were already living on earth and working alongside the government on terms both sides had agreed upon. The _intergalactic police_ , as someone might call it, had appointed a team of their own officials to a post on earth, to be studied and maybe understood, Jimin and Namjoon included, until a stranger recruited them for personal affairs. It wasn't against their own ideology, but the humans opposed them violently and, in the end, when they couldn't make them conform, one side escaped and the other held the rest of the team captive for more sinister purposes.

For months on end, it's been just Jimin and Namjoon.

Namjoon smiled, a grin he hated but had grown used to after seeing it so. Many. Times. "I'm all you've got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At every milestone we hit, I'll give you a surprise.  
> Not sure whether it'll be a hits milestone or kudos milestone, they kind of tend to be vastly different numbers so like.... Maybe at 10 kudos or 500 hits? We'll see we'll see  
> -edited-


	5. Build-A-Bond

They drove in silence for a while on roads that once were busy brimming with life, even during early hours, that now were mostly empty and felt hostile. The car slid easily on the dull gray lanes of a silenced city as the morning light deterred the menaces hiding in the darker corners.

When the car eventually pulled to a stop, Namjoon exited the car without the company of his partner, leaving them in the vacant street and disappearing into the building next to them.

Earlier, silence was serene. It was light, and it was unnoticeable. The car's hum and the bumps on the road were white noise to disconcerted minds and the brief moments rays of sun slipped over the shorter buildings to reach their chilly skin comforted their bodies like a warm hug. The morning summer breeze took it back and replaced it with fresh air, which made it easier to notice the absence of vehicles other than theirs in the city's centre, convincing even the most hardheaded out of all of them -Jungkook- that driving like this for a bit longer wouldn't be so bad.

Now that the rest of their senses had lost an object to focus on, silence made them impatient.

Taehyung. It made Taehyung impatient.

He looked at Jungkook, who stared out of his window and whose fingers jerked randomly.

"Hey, Jimin, what exactly did you hit Jungkook with?"

Jimin shifted in his seat to look at them over his lowered sunglasses. "Oh, it's a prototype paralyzer that first electrocutes the victim and then paralyzes it. Namjoon built it."

"He did? He doesn't look that... uh, _skillful_." Taehyung said, careful when picking his words, and Jimin snorted.

"He's a lot smarter than he looks, talks, and acts." He noticed Jungkook throwing daggers at him quietly and raised a brow, but he talked before Jimin could say anything.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"You can't even bend a finger in your state. Wait till the effects die out and we can surely arrange something," Jimin promised with a grin and Taehyung choked a laugh. That man had laced confidence in every gesture, every word that he uttered, but it was in no way arrogant. Jungkook picked up on that, too. He understood Jimin was being candid. There was no way he would ever admit to it, but there was a certain respect amounted to that. To meaning what he said. Even towards a complete stranger that was laid incapacitated in their backseat.

As silence took over again, Jimin turned to the pink haired man staring out the window in a catatonic state. He glanced at Taehyung and gestured towards him with his head.

"Um, h- hey, there, dude?"

His eyes moved before his head did, likely when he realised he was being addressed. "It's Jin," he spoke and went back to the view opposite from these people. They came into his life out of nowhere, unsolicited existences hurling him out of the safety of a familiar environment.

_I did wish for a change of scenery, didn't I?_

"Hey, Jin. All good?"

He turned to Taehyung who smiled softly once he got Jin's attention. "Yeah. Yeah, it's just, _dying_ so much drains me a little."

Taehyung's smile faded in guilt and Jungkook snickered.

"I guess I'd laugh, too, if I was a sad and shunned worldwide little bitch, but you'll always be the sole contender for the number one spot," Jin panned and Jungkook's smirk faded while both Taehyung and Jimin held back their reactions by pursing their lips.

"Jungkook wasn't always like _this_ , though," said Taehyung, earning an incredulous glare from both men.

"You mean there was a time when he wasn't a dick? I have to see that to believe it."

"What are you even saying, I've always been awesome," scoffed Jungkook.

"We are only as blind as we want to be," cited Jimin and, before he could see Jungkook's fake-wounded reaction, sat straight in his seat when his eyes caught Namjoon rushing to the car.

Before the rest could realize what was happening, they were back on the road. Namjoon stepped on it, earning a frown from his partner that he purposefully ignored. An empty city in moments like these was and, at the same time, wasn't an advantage. Had there been a traffic, he wouldn't be able to burn up the roads with as much ease at he did, yet he might have had the chance to elude the threat on their tail by other cars' random positions.

His eyes flew regularly to the rearview mirror to heed the right amount of attention when their pursuer would come into view. Namjoon's fingers gripped the steering wheel and Jimin knew better than to speak right now. The look on Namjoon's eyes told him everything he needed to know. Instead, he reached the glove compartment to grab a different gun from the one on his holster, the one he used on Jungkook.

Jimin lowered his window and waited patiently, allowing himself to focus on the sweltering wind that rose from the ground and enveloped him in a firm hold.

Namjoon shifted the gear lever and Jimin instinctively checked the rearview mirror. "Fuck."

"Who's that?" Taehyung asked, watching the motorcyclist in all black gain momentum and reduce the distance between the two vehicles.

"That's an old friend," Namjoon said, swerving the car harshly on a turn.

"He doesn't look very friendly," Taehyung noted and Namjoon smiled, "Well, some relationships are very complicated."

Jimin rolled his eyes and shook his head. "The only thing complicated about this is you calling him a _friend_ after all he's done to you."

"Shut up and get ready, Min."

Without response, Jimin hunched over the door and fixated a steady arm over and outside the window, linear with the car, and aimed at the street ahead. The motorcyclist caught up with them on their right, speeding up to block Jimin. He stretched his hand, centimetres away from Jimin's.

"Now, do it, now!" Namjoon yelled and Jimin fired the gun several metres ahead of them, which in turn emitted huge waves of energy. Like it was a two-dimensional drawing, the road unfolded into squares to be rearranged and briefly form an abyssal gateway that all six of them got swallowed into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another slow paced chapter, a filler as you might call it  
> I try not to keep things very slow generally, I don't think I'm talented enough to not make it boring lmao
> 
> but if you've read this far and liked it, leave a comment (I will def answer) maybe tell your friends about it(?)🤷let's build a bond 🤔😏  
> -edited-


	6. Pawns

If there were words created to describe what was happening, no one could ever string them together into a coherent sentence.

At one moment, they were being suppressed into themselves, wringed like wet clothes and contracted into crumpled fabric, and the next, stretched out beyond the limits of their bodies, their cells hauled at every possible direction.

Screaming came naturally to them as the car sank and landed crudely somewhere, escaping the terror of the portal and no longer in motion. Thankfully.

It took a second to realise they were back to normal. "Let me guess–" Jungkook panted, "another prototype?"

Jimin and Namjoon laughed, much more composed than the rest three. "No, this is just what it's like. You'll get used to it."

"I'd rather die-" Jin huffed and shoved the jammed door open, stumbling out. Taehyung jumped out too, and doubled over to let his insides out.

They had touched down in the middle of a dark storehouse, barely lit by a dim horizontal line of lamps fixed at a height similar to theirs and linked to create a ring of weak light in the enormous room. Gigantic entities towered around them, awkward extensions from their bodies casted daunting shadows.

"What– the _fuck_ – Namjoon!" A rather angry voice yelped, amplifying the lights to reveal a smoking car and five people screening their now visible environments in the middle of the hangar.

"Bobby." Namjoon greeted and, with a defeated slump on his shoulders, _Bobby_ sighed. "It's been a while."

"Should've been a longer while," he grumbled and studied the new faces. "No one important, I see. You might as well leave the way you came."

"That's not fair," Jimin interjected, "You know, just like we do, there was nothing more we could have done to help."

They stared in silence as the rest collected themselves, even Jungkook could stand on his own, with a stumble, but still.

Some of Bobby's closest friends were close to Namjoon, too; it was the outcome of being the last tribe to survive from their homeplanet, yet the two themselves could never get along as well. One of those mutual friends was assigned on earth's post with Jimin and Namjoon, but after their escape, the rest went off the map and no one could reach them. In the hands of physically powerless but crazy scientists, anything was possible and Bobby hated entertaining these ideas.

Namjoon felt guilty. He knew trying to get them back would be a suicide mission and that acknowledgment of powerlessness made him feel worse. The pride he took from protecting his people was being striped away, leaving an insecure husk of a once intrepid man. Acting dumb saved the remnants of his dignity, because when he failed he could avoid the responsibility it came with.

But Bobby knew him. Jimin, too. The difference was that around Bobby he reinforced his guards, brick walls to prohibit him from making mistakes, and around Jimin he didn't. The walls didn't exactly come crashing down, they just, kind of, stood there and watched Jimin, expecting him to knock. Thank fuck he didn't have to spend too much time with Bobby.

"Yeah, that was nice and all, but, um," Jungkook peeped in the moment, "where are we?"

Namjoon turned to him, perplexed. The symbol was covering a whole wall. "The _Resistance_? Obviously?"

"Jokes aside."

" _What_?"

"You can't tell me you brought us inside the Resistance's core with a serious face. We all know they're a laughingstock."

"That's lovely! Coming from a dictatorship's patsy," Jin commented, rubbing his temples.

Namjoon pointed at Jin repeatedly. "I like him– I like you. I don't think I've introduced myself, I'm Namjoon."

"...Jin."

Taehyung turned to Jimin, "Why did you bring us here?"

"Take a guess."

"The one who hired you is here? Is it the leader?" He asked eagerly.

"Yes and no. He just lives and works here." Jimin's eyes caught motion from the motorcyclist on the ground. The body was still distorted, hands broken behind its back and legs twisted in more chilling ways.

"Oh, shit–" Taehyung exclaimed when he caught sight of it, too, and the others' attention focused on the body, unsettled.

"Don't worry," Jimin calmed them, "it's just an android." He stepped closer and closer, staring deeply into the helmet facing him. He squatted and placed his hands on the cold surface, wrapping around the edges and removing it in a single move. "Its creator is too big of a coward to come at us himself," he spoke, not to the people around him but to the man watching behind the cameras.

"Let's go rest. It's been 8 long hours."

Taehyung frowned. He lingered on the robotic face and its hollow eyes as his feet followed the others mindlessly. They were dead and frozen, fixed onto nothing. He had to divert his stare when he exited through the hangar's wide double doors, missing the lifeless stare that landed on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> k admittedly I didn't plan on posting this today but wattpad's been having issues and I'm scared of losing my drafts so double update !!!:)  
> -edited-


	7. The Resistance

Jungkook took mental notes of everything.

The rest seemed absentminded as Namjoon and Bobby led them, silent and five feet apart from each other, but Jungkook remained alert. 

The corridors were wide and the ceiling tall, much taller than them. The walls were a steel gray shade, abrasive to the touch, adequately illuminated by a light source planted in cavities on the ceiling line and the floor line. Jimin could see his head flying around and every time they passed an intersection, he examined all that caught his eye, probably thinking he was being stealthy. Jimin smiled to himself.

They walked for a while down the main corridor, every few metres passing scarce doors hermetically sealed and a reader pad on each door's right. The place appeared devoid of life, so spacious yet so quiet, until they crossed a black and red striped caution tape adhered to the floor. Then, a sheer teal layer of an energy barrier rose behind them, concealing that part of the institution and, at the same time, dissolving the silence to reveal the buzz of spirited chatter.

They had almost reached the source of the noise when Jungkook caught a door close to him sliding open and he gasped as Jimin shoved him in and sealed the exit with another teal wall similar to the previous one. He restored his balance and banged his fists on the unmovable barrier, "Hey– _you little_ _shit_ – let me out!"

"Don't mistake us for fools, Jungkook. You can't be trusted."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, piss off. If I wanted to act on something, this flimsy barrier couldn't hold me back for shit." His stare landed on Taehyung and he tilted his head. "Tell him, Tae. Tell him to let me go."

Taehyung's breath hitched as Jimin turned and studied him expectantly. There was no way Jimin would obey, but their reactions to the possibility of it were interesting.

" _Come on_ , Tae–"

"I–" He interrupted, nervous. That nickname used to mean a lot when _he_ said it. To utter it as if its intimacy lacked significance felt like a stab in the throat.  
"I'm sorry, Jungkook. You don't get to call me that anymore."

He kept moving, urging the group to walk along, too, and avoided Jungkook's vexed gaze. Jimin lingered there and attracted his focus once Taehyung left his line of vision. "Clean up. I'll come back later to keep my promise."

* * *

Taehyung maintained a calm expression around the others. They were not idiots, the tension between the two gave up more than the bond they had implied on purpose. Alas, it was not a subject he wanted to touch with them, nor show how it affected him. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he was very much _not_ over Jungkook. The way things ended, he doubted he ever would be. Maybe it would become a bitter love story of his youth shenanigans he'd reminisce in his last days.

_Last days_...

He mentally snorted at his naivety. Taehyung kept forgetting the reason everyone was currently here. An impulsive decision and a lot of running later, he had somehow managed to get himself arrested, his ex momentarily paralyzed and incarcerated, and the five of them chased away to an allegedly fortified anarchist coalition's base by metal scraps, yet the end of this unending journey was closer than he liked to recall.

Taehyung felt the skin on his chest itch and sting. It felt raw and tight, and he often found himself resisting the urge to rub the affected area in front of the others. The thing is, they all know what he did, but they don't know what happened. He knew they probably imagined different stuff when it came to it, but the general idea had to be this: Taehyung, stealing an ampoule filled with the _cure_ in a liquid form, making a run for it, losing the guards from his tail and then portaling himself constantly to faraway planets, theatrically hunted down by his kindred spirit to spice up a tragic love story, all the while he was slowly becoming known as the Minister's son who had gone mad and rogue and fled the planet with its only salvation.

The structure of this picture was wrong... and kind of right.

Jimin joined them promptly and the group halted to discuss the next course of actions.

"Would you like to rest or meet the Resistance's leader first? Our main dude isn't available at the moment, so..." Namjoon trailed and Taehyung seemed to consider it for a moment, but he already knew he needed some time to assess the situation. "I'd like to rest, if that's no trouble. I'm sure Jin would agree–"

He gestured towards the quiet man standing farther from them, at the end of the corridor, with his back facing them. Jin's stiff body moved, too intrigued to care for his lack of energy, and the rest approached him to the entrance of the main hall.

They were so caught up in their own thoughts, they tuned out the continuously growing lively chatter, white noise for troubled minds. A big lounge stretched out in front of them, filled with people of varied sizes, shapes, colors. Under the warm lighting, some of them talked to each other, some read books, some snacked, children played with toys or ran carefree across the room. They hadn't noticed the new ones walk in, or they just didn't care.

"It's too bad there are people like Jungkook out there. The Resistance has done nothing but save lives and fight for what's right, while the despots _murdered_ whole planets," Bobby said in a hushed tone, as to avoid getting heard by the others; victims of such tragedies caused by greedy people. Taehyung assumed the Resistance allowed little to no information shared among the weaker population of the rescued. Would it be useful to steal their innocence with the truth?

It would, were they ever to come face to face with the ones that stole their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of the chapters are unedited, which means pretty raw and rough around the edges, but I'm not really in the state of mind to spend more time to check up with all of my mistakes, which I'm sure are a lot  
> -proud to say I finally sat down and started editing lmao-
> 
> leave a comment if you liked this chapter, love reading what you have to say and!! I will absolutely reply:)


	8. Hell Is Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was forced to write this twice because my laptop crashed through several drafts so if they seem half assed, I must apologize, them being gone made me not even wanna touch my laptop ever again

_**A while ago** _

Jungkook fell on his back with a thud, eyes trained on the dagger next to his throat.

"You're slow today, Jungkook."

His opponent, Seungcheol, stepped back and resumed his fighting stance while Jungkook jumped on his feet with little momentum from a push of his back and faced him with equal form. They moved in circles, calculative eyes watching each and every move whilst their mentor, Jungkook's brother, Yoongi, oversaw their training from the circular arena's margins.

"Focus, Jungkook. Can you do that, at least?"

They had been going at this for hours, stuck in the training joint all day in a merciless duel that was meant to prepare them for the real thing: the Obsidian Tournament. The Obsidian Defenders were the highest military ranked officials, enjoying almost as much power as the Premier Minister and his court of counsellors, although they were tasked with protecting the rulers of the nation among other things. The Tournament was an annual, ambitious competition for the aspirant combatants, a show for the fans of the 'sport', but Jungkook witnessed early on what competing meant from his own seat on the grandstands between the howling spectators when he was still unaccustomed to blatant violence. Yoongi would stand on the field, much closer to the actual fight, and observe, even though the end result wasn't his decision, not even as the Commander. Each winning combatant had a choice to make, mercy or plain execution, and what forced Jungkook's stomachs to churn every year he attended was the obvious impulse taking over their sanity. The statistics were stacking the chances of surviving against the losers and he'd seen proof of it during every fight he watched. An unfamiliar urge, a bestial caprice almost always took over, which resulted in quenching both the combatant's and the spectators' bloodlust with a gory finish. Perhaps, the triumphant combatant considered execution a merciful enough decision, so that the loser wouldn't have to live with the humiliation of lifelong training being trampled upon by lesser ranks, Jungkook theorized -the Tournament, although annual, allowed just one entry per person, per life. If one happened to survive, they couldn't reenter and fight, but they could find positions in lower ranked units.

Jungkook had been disgusted by it, but he looked up to his brother a great deal for earning his place as the Obsidian Commander and worked just as hard to be able to work alongside him. Under Yoongi's training of a whole class of wannabe warriors, he was proud to be the best, though his day had started looking less and less like his day after his and Seuncheol's match began.

Said man with the cool grey coloured hair lunged forward and swung the dagger, and Jungkook raised his forearms to block it, adding another cut to his already substantial collection of surface cuts and a few deeper ones, because, like the distracted idiot he was, all his weapons were flung off the arena, and everything off the arena was off limits until Yoongi could say they were done for the day. Both were tired, bloodied and bleeding -Jungkook mostly- . Seungcheol swung the dagger again, but Jungkook grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer to land three hard knee kicks to his abdomen. Seungcheol staggered back, maybe out of surprise that Jungkook could, in fact, land decent hits, and Jungkook took advantage of that. He hauled Seungcheol's arm from the firm grip of his wrist and threw him upside down, his turn to land on his back.

Yoongi turned away, an unreadable expression on his face that definitely did not mean anything good, and walked over to a stack of papers on a table across the room, their sign of dismissal and Jungkook's sign of disappointment.

Jungkook offered a hand to Seungcheol, helping him to his feet when he spoke. "You really had your ass handed to you, huh?"

"Please," Jungkook scoffed, "this was the first and last time you _slightly_ outdid me."

"I think you should be careful," he insisted, some concern detectable in his tone. "You've seen what happens. I don't think evisceration would look cute on you."

Jungkook's head cocked to the side. "Although you're adorable, you don't have to worry about me. Today meant nothing."

Seungcheol's tongue clicked with doubt as he played with the dagger in his hand. "I don't know, man, I went pretty easy on you. No one will do that then, and if there's the slightest chance we get paired up, I won't either." He gave Jungkook a lopsided smile that did nothing to help him sound less like he's threatening him with death, passed the dagger to him and made his way out, leaving Jungkook behind to deal with both his brother _and_ the cleaning for his first time as the least productive trainee of the day ever.

Jungkook was left standing in the middle of the arena in suffocating silence. He knew Yoongi had something to say and he knew it wasn't pleasant. His brother stood by the table with the papers in his hands, seemingly fixated on their contents, but Jungkook had a feeling he was too bothered to pay substantial attention and rather waited for Jungkook to approach to reprimand him. Very parent-like of him.

So, even though he feared what he was about to hear, Jungkook walked over, invoking no reaction. They stood there, both silent and full of nerves, until Yoongi spoke.

"If you aren't confident you can win," Yoongi said and let his occupied hands fall to his front before looking up at his brother, "feel free to quit. You have time."

"I don't want to quit," he rushed and Yoongi tilted his head to scan him, white locks following the movement. "It won't happen again-"

"It _can't_ happen again," he corrected, silencing Jungkook. "I'll repeat myself, because you don't seem to get it. If you don't want this anymore, quit. No one will be mad at you."

"I said I don't want to quit."

"Then why did you keep messing up?" Yoongi panned and withered Jungkook with his hard stare. "Why are you distracted, if not because you don't want this anymore? Is it the Minister's son?"

Jungkook flinched, eyes widening at the mention, and shook his head. "No, it's not Taehyung."

"Then?" he persisted, running out of patience.

"There are rumours," he began, mindful of Yoongi's reactions. "Rumours the Minister and his court are committing crimes and covering them up."

Yoongi sighed. "So, it is the Minister's son." There was something about how his brother avoided even uttering Taehyung's name that Jungkook didn't understand. "More or less, everyone is aware of his fascination with foreign civilizations, but he's too invested in their surreal ways of maintaining order. We have a system that works for everyone, no matter the costs. We're all servants to the nation and we obey every command to keep peace. It is not our place to change that." He eyed Jungkook avoiding his gaze and pursed his lips. "The Tournament is dangerous. You know just as well as I do that only one exits the arena alive, even though they have the option." Jungkook nodded along and Yoongi frowned. He still did not understand. "I don't want your dead body handed to me, Jungkook."

Harsher than a slap to the face, those words rattled him. Maybe it was the subtle fear laced in Yoongi's tone or the way he stared at him when he looked up; as though he dreaded entertaining the possibility of Jungkook's demise. He said nothing else. He left, with those papers in his hands and without uttering another word. It would be useless to, either way. The Tournament was a only few days away.

Jungkook shook himself out of his stun and hurried to mop up the floor first and then clean the weapons, utilizing the chores to clear his head. He distracted himself with the serene silence for a while, picking up stranded daggers and wiping them clean, when he heard the thud of footsteps approaching stealthily. He flung the dagger he was cleaning across the room and into the doorframe next to Taehyung's head, its momentum swaying his black curls.

Taehyung's eyes bulged, followed by his mouth falling agape and the incredulous back and forth glare between Jungkook and the dagger centimetres away from his face. "Have you finally decided you want to kill me?"

"Don't be silly," Jungkook scoffed, "who would I kiss and snuggle with if I killed you? It's very counterproductive."

Taehyung seemed to think about it while he stepped closer. "True, it would be too much of a bother for you to replace me, wouldn't it?"

Jungkook's jaw clenched. He tugged him closer and Taehyung placed his forearms against Jungkook's chest playfully, fists resting on his collarbones. Jungkook wrapped his arms around his shoulders and held him tighter, even with Taehyung's lighthearted blockade. "You should have a shower," Taehyung said, face scrunched up in a grimace after a light whiff of Jungkook's musky sweat. He dipped in response, head lolling down to nestle his cheeks on Taehyung's fists, and inhaled the fresh and flowery aroma that mingled with his. A guilty thought crossed his mind, but he decided he wanted to spoil that delicate scent badly. He wanted to breathe in need and longing, he wanted to breathe in Taehyung ruined under him.

And, Taehyung thought, if that's what he needed, even for a fleeting moment, he would happily give it over.

"But I want you," Jungkook whined, and tilted to lay a tender kiss on one fist.

"What if someone walks in and sees us?" Taehyung asked and then the realization it was a plausible scenario made him snap to the entrance and check.

"Is that your best excuse?" Jungkook hummed, moving to lay a kiss on the other hand. Taehyung stared, stunned eyes following every move. "Won't do," he purred, parted Taehyung's hands and drew him in for a shy kiss. He placed several more consecutive kisses, deepening them gradually, and guided Taehyung backwards into a table without breaking it off. He boosted him up its surface and ran his thumbs over Taehyung's ribs in slow, exhilarating circles. It took extraordinary resolve he didn't know he had to separate from Taehyung's lush lips and he moved on to remove both their clothes ardently while Taehyung lied pliant to his whims. 

Jungkook indulged in his lips once more, breaths stolen and shared by, still, very timid kisses, a modest version of strong emotions buried deep under inhibitions. He set his hands at the back of Taehyung's knees and pressed them down onto his chest. Taehyung gasped, both at the exertion of his inflexible body's limits -limits that were tested only if Jungkook had something to do with it- and at the Jungkook bent down and left trails of warm, wet kisses along his inner thighs. He shuddered as cold air struck each spot with different intensity, and Jungkook purposefully ignored the erection growing against Taehyung's stomach the same way he ignored his own, moving downwards instead.

_Naturally_ , Taehyung didn't require any lubrication, but Jungkook wasn't aware of that the first time they had gotten down to bone. He had learnt different things while enjoying other people's company during his time doing groundwork off-planet, with which Taehyung had no problem with. He didn't care that they had grown up into their relationship. It was cool.

Nevertheless, Taehyung had found he liked the sensation of Jungkook's tongue working on his rim and the image was exceptionally arousing. Also, Jungkook loved eating him out.

When Jungkook grazed his tongue on the rim, Taehyung gasped, his hands flew to Jungkook's under his knees and intertwined, securing his legs open with a firmer hold. Jungkook's tongue prodded and pressed and licked, threatening entry but never going all the way. The low moans escaping Taehyung's lips were music to his ears, inviting him to do more just so that he could hear more. Taehyung grinded onto him with little to no avail, the grip too steady to budge for his satisfaction.

"Come on, Jungkook," Taehyung whined, breathless and impatient. Jungkook leaned back and chuckled, the sound tugging Taehyung's heartstrings, who in turn strived to choke aw-ing audibly at the sight of all the tiny crinkles around his smile and dark eyes. Jungkook bent over and met him in another kiss both smiled throughout; they simply could never have enough. He released Taehyung's knees, but not his hands, pinning them on the table, and lined himself up to Taehyung's rim, taunting.

Taehyung looked up at him staring. Then, he pushed.

And, then, infinitesimal sparkles flickered all over Taehyung's skin and Jungkook always thought his eyes played tricks on him at first, but he discovered the little gems shining with gradual vigor and at many spots. Taehyung was unaware what these flickers, that meant nothing to him, did to Jungkook, and he let out a groan as Jungkook pushed all the way in, stretching him to fit to perfection.

Jungkook gawked and picked up the pace, eager to see more. He didn't care about anything else, this was far from the way he mated either way, Taehyung's pleasure was enough, so he snapped his hips faster, thrusting in and out with ease. The table shook along with his movements, a flawed, shorter leg tapping the floor with every other thrust, but neither cared for the dissonance. Taehyung mewled nonstop, fingers dug into Jungkook's hands, his only outlet of energy while Jungkook refused him further touch. He simply pounded Taehyung and watched him writhe under him, thighs tight around his ribs, and the tiny gems gleamed brighter with lines lacing them together in a web. Taehyung was close. 

"Please, Jungkook," sobbed Taehyung, but Jungkook brushed his begs off, pouncing mercilessly. "Jungk-" he started, but was cut short when the climax struck, so hard and sudden, his waist arched off the table and his whole body trembled around Jungkook who admired his glowing baby. A hand shot to his nape and pulled him down, close to Taehyung's face. He panted, warm breath faning over Jungkook's startled face, and gazed through hooded eyes. 

"It's your turn," he sighed and pulled him in. Jungkook had doubted he'd know this, because when they fucked they just so happened to kiss too, maybe by Jungkook's indirect guidance, maybe not, it didn't matter. Taehyung knew and worshipped the way Jungkook jerked when their lips crashed together. No one took charge because when they kissed they were equal. Taehyung helped him pursue his orgasm after receiving his own, through his lips, the most sensitive part of Jungkook's body. His cock became solid, still inside Taehyung, and he moaned into the kiss. Lips grazed, brushed, and tongues wrestled, danced. Jungkook forgot how to breathe, forgot where he was, who he was, only remembered the constellations on Taehyung's skin and his soft lips. He didn't remember coming, but he felt it when he stilled, because his lips stilled too when Taehyung's kept going on a softer, consoling pace.

"I love you," he'd whispered, but Jungkook didn't remember that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all stay safe and healthy, I hope so for your families and friends too, wash your hands, don't touch your face, whatever you need to do to be okay just do it,, okay? I know this pandemic is not nearly as serious as the media make it out to be, but there are high chances it will take a turn for the worse and people like the elderly and susceptible groups (like me) are in bigger danger than the rest. In any case, take care of yourselves:)


	9. And All The Devils Are Here

_How could everything go so wrong?_

Taehyung's mind went blank. A million thoughts crossed it and, at the same time, none. He couldn't find himself in a position to run when things went sideways, so he just sat there. On the floor. His back against a cold metal counter. Legs shrivelled close to his frozen frame. Gaze fixed on the wall across, vision blurred from tears. A glass vial broken half a few metres away. The cage's bars bent and broken from the inside out, and two bodies sprawled close to him.

" _Tae–h–hyung–_ "

He flinched, barely catching the incoherent stifled voice that called out to him. It took a moment to collect some pieces of himself and make the impossible effort to move from his place, but he did. He shuffled closer to the rigid body, legs too weak to hold him up, and crouched over Yoongi's stiff figure. 

Shivers went down Taehyung's spine. Yoongi looked up at him, calm and gentle, just the way he had been from the instant he joined the Guard as a rookie and was forced to babysit two whippersnappers like Taehyung and Jungkook. A little prince and an orphan whose existences were equally ignored, which meant they enjoyed getting into an equal amount of trouble, and he took on the responsibility of looking after both of them. Only this time was different because Yoongi was succumbing to his wounds and Taehyung was to blame.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, incapable of holding them back. Yoongi's hands trembled as he attempted to strip his wrist of a small gimmick fastened on it. He tore the leather band that held it securely and handed it over to Taehyung, placing it firmly in his palms. "Take this– and leave– they'll hunt you down for what you did–"

"What are you talking about? No. _No_ – I can't leave you here! What about Jungkook– he'll– he'll be destroyed–" Taehyung sobbed. Jungkook's loving, relieved smile flashed through his mind. The crinkles of his eyes that he loved so. Standing victorious over his defeated, still alive, opponent. Only a few hours ago now felt like an eternity and the realization that life could take a somersault and result in chaos at any given moment.

"You– you promised. He can't know– _euch_ –" Yoongi gagged on the bile rising up his throat and he tilted his head to the side, disgorging dark grey gunk that stained his mouth. "Leave. _Now_."

Taehyung shook his head, refusing. "I can't keep that promise, Yoongi. I _can't_ do that–", the sound of discordant footsteps approaching in a frenzy thwarted the little amount of sense he had collected in the past few minutes. He just short-circuited, hands flailing around Yoongi because he wasn't able to register proper, lucid thoughts, but maybe his body was able to make a decision for him.

"Damnit, Taehyung," the Commander moaned and yanked his wrist to fasten the gimmick. He exerted the last bits of power he had to concentrate on the touch screen properly, and, as the double doors burst open, the Prince dematerialized from his side.

* * *

Jungkook climbed the stairs two steps at a time. He'd bitten all over his lips, fearing Taehyung had been involved in something bad, just because he had disappeared soon after the duel ended. It had become an instinctive response to search for Taehyung when he wasn't next to him, and the first time he tried to and failed, he blamed it on circumstance. The second time brought second thoughts, doubt and an unknown gut feeling that ate his mind. As he approached the wide-open double doors, that unwelcome certainty established itself. Jungkook's hands clenched into fists.

He peered into the room, never knowing what to make of it. The nation's highest-ranking doctor was crouching over a metal countertop, head hung low and her hands supporting her weight on the counter as she tapped away tension with her fingers. The Minister stood by the entrance and rubbed his temples. Two bodies blanketed with white sheets, one sheet clear and one tainted with dark sapphire blood. _Taehyung_.

Jungkook strode to the body that bled over the floor and through the sheet, tensing up and unable to think. A firm hand held him back harshly and he almost jerked it off of him until he saw it was the King who restrained him. It took all of his being to not just snap then and there and uncover the body he actually dreaded seeing.

"It's not him, soldier," he spat. _Soldier_. That word was only pretty when Taehyung said it. _Soldier_. Disgusting. "He doesn't matter. My son, however, does." He gripped both his shoulders and squeezed.

Jungkook had a double-take, frowning. The Minister stared him down, skinning him with his empty, crazy glare. He was younger than any of his counsellors, as statuesque and imposing as anyone would imagine him to be, and the resemblance between father and son was vague but there. Maybe it was the way his malicious eyes bore into him, the way his fingers clawed his shoulders; Jungkook could point out numerous things about him that screamed wrong. "He stole something very important to the state," he spoke in condescending tone that disagreed with his attitude. "A cure the Doctor created meant to heal _all_ illnesses. He took it for himself– that egotistic child used our only salvation on himself–"

"Calm down, Minister," the Doctor said and he hesitated but released Jungkook's shoulders. That was weird. What sort of influence did she possess over him? She stepped closer to the young warrior to shield him from the Minister's rage and impose herself simultaneously. She fixed her eyes on his and smiled gently. "Taehyung stole my life's work. It's important to me, as it is to the whole realm, okay? I know you've built up some affectionate relationship with him, but he has committed many crimes. He has stolen the teleportation thingy from the Commander's chambers, not to mention the _murder_ of two innocent people–"

Jungkook shook his head and the Doctor tilted her head and sighed, blonde locks following the motion smoothly. "That's impossible. Taehyung would never do something like that unless he had a good reason."

The Minister rolled his eyes and she hung her head low and pursed her lips before looking back up at him. "I know this is hard to believe– trust me, I do. We don't want to think someone we've placed our whole trust on, who we've become _dependent_ on, is not who they say they are. _Lies_ , we want to believe in them. For the ones we _love_ , we'll overlook anything, right?" Jungkook kept shaking his head, incapable of listening to any more of these nonsensical words.

"Hey," she whispered, and held his stiff fists, an awkward effort to appease him. "Just bring him back, okay? That's all we need right now. I'm sure he has an explanation and I'm sure we can agree on that. Can you bring him back?"

Jungkook heaved. His chest rose and fell, heavy. He just needed to bring him back, right? Then everything could go back to normal. Without thinking for long, he separated his hands from the Doctor, who stepped back uneasy, and raised his wrist. Of course, he had Yoongi's device ID registered in his own. When lost, when in danger, they needed to somehow find each other. He could find Taehyung. He _had_ to. He _needed_ him.

* * *

The warm, unfiltered light of two suns caressed his cold cheeks, and the equally balmy gales struck his body, thrashing through the tall bed of golden wheat around him and through the shaky leaves atop scarcely grown trees. The air filled him, fresh and overpowering, and had he not been searching for his Taehyung, he would linger around for perhaps a moment longer.

He scanned the vastness of his surroundings for just a moment before he caught sight of dark curls quivering erratically under the wind's strikes. Jungkook treaded through the grassland, the wheat spikes tickling his fists, and halted a step away from Taehyung, who stood by the edge of a steep cliff that overlooked a cerulean ocean. Taehyung's profile was visible, face hard as he stared at the blue that reminded him of the sketches he gifted Jungkook and remained hidden in his chambers.

Jungkook's mind emptied. His hand slipped and reached for Taehyung's, fingers finding their way to intertwine with Taehyung's. He stayed unresponsive for a split second before tightening his hold, and it's possible Jungkook had forgotten how to breathe until that moment. His solace was short-lived when Taehyung retracted his hand and he reckoned he could very well throw himself off the ridge at that instant.

"Talk to me, Tae, please," Jungkook said.

Taehyung took a deep breath and planted his hands inside his trousers' pockets. "If I asked of you to leave it all behind and run away with me, would you do it? Would you do so much as simply consider it?"

"What are you talking about?" Jungkook frowned. "Tae, I can't leave my life behind, my duty, my brother, I–" Taehyung flinched and it took everything he had to remain calm. "I gave an oath today–"

A humourless laugh shook his shoulders. "You did, but it doesn't mean the same thing to both of us. To me it's nothing," Taehyung clenched his jaw, feeling his heart ready to hurl itself from his chest, and turned around to look at Jungkook's eyes. Because _he_ liked that. Looking at someone straight in the eyes while you said something gave it importance, gave it meaning, he said. Gave it truth. "To me you're nothing."

Jungkook's frown deepened. His lips wavered with confusion at the loss of his words, inadequately trying to process through the words and the letters and the intervals and his _voice_ , his eyes –distant and stony– and he battled with the possibility he was being truthful, but–

"You don't mean that."

"But I do. I do mean it. Feigning affection was easy, but you became a real sore real soon." Taehyung chuckled to himself. He lowered his gaze and shook his head before he looked up darkly at Jungkook through the curls of his fringe. "Can't believe how ridiculous you sound. You were a delightful plaything, I ought to confess."

"You do _not_ mean that. You're lying. Come on, Tae. Cut this out, it's not funny. Whatever the problem, we'll figure it out."

"You just don't understand, do you? _This_ is who I am– who I've always been. I'm superior to you and you're a nobody. Be with someone like _you_? Unheard of. You don't even love yourself and it shows while you keep wearing your guise to look like the rest. You're _hideous_. A monster."

"Shut up," Jungkook growled. "Shut up, shut _up._ " The angry tears that had welled up to the brim flowed freely once he pressed his eyes, but not again. The frown faded away and he stood still, small and crumbling inside. The sun rays glistened like gems on his wet cheeks. "I don't know what happened to make you act like that–"

"This isn't acting, Jungkook. Why would I lie about this?" Taehyung shrugged. As Jungkook tried and tried to justify such cruel words, and ignore that unfamiliar tone in his voice, he became desperate. This did not feel right. It _can't_ be right.

"–we're going back together, and we'll find a solution. Together. You can't–" Taehyung shook his head exasperated. Jungkook took a deep breath and hung his head low. "You can't fool me. Not after everything we've been through. You can hit me, you can curse at me, you can hate me. I'll take it all. But not this." He stretched out his hand slowly and rested his wrist on Taehyung's shoulder. His shaky fingers hesitated but he raked them through Taehyung's soft locks at the back of his head. "Let's go."

Taehyung's shoulders slumped and he looked down, but he could only lean into the touch, raising his hand to meet with Jungkook's on his shoulder. He held it tight for a moment. Taehyung turned his gaze to Jungkook, who still stared at him with as much love he could muster at that point.

"I'm sorry."

And then, he abandoned his soldier, slipped through the grasp of his aching fingertips and faded into thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited:)  
> I kept postponing the end of this chapter because I couldn't put myself in the right headspace for long, I really hope this came out right. Maybe in the future I'll look back and cringe at everything, but for now I like it😂 I really want to know what you think of this, what do you predict for the future chapters, how do you feel about the characters, am I helping you feel the emotions I'm trying to convey?🤔🤔 Let's talk!
> 
> How are you, whoever is reading this? Everyone is quarantined here, acting like maniacs if you don't keep a distance or wear a surgical mask...


	10. Where Do I Lay My Faith

Through the energy barrier that blocked entrance and exit, but not sight, Jimin could see feet spread open on the floor as Jungkook had sunk against the wall by the door and sat there in silence. His hands laid across his lap, discoloured at the knuckles and swollen all around. It had been a few hours since they left him in that room. Was his patience so fragile that he would rather hurt and exhaust himself further just to leave it?

Jimin let his fingers hover close to the reader's screen that shut the barrier and stepped in, all the way to the centre of the room, to sit at the edge of the double bed. He looked at Jungkook. The blasé gaze was fixed onto the floor when it moved up to meet Jimin.

"Holding cells aren't usually of this calibre. I hope you didn't get too used to my room," Jimin said.

Jungkook raised a brow and looked around. It didn't seem like someone's room before when he first searched through _everything_ , and the fact that _it was_ Jimin's threw him off. He had found nothing suggesting life inside these four walls, nothing of personal value. "This is _your_ room? That's kind of sad."

Jimin ignored him. "Why didn't you rest? I told you I would come back to keep my promise. You're too weak to fight in your state."

Jungkook's playful gaze darkened. He struggled to stand up, but he managed. Proud, Jimin noted. The challenge he posed by merely calling him weak had forced him off the ground. "You and that guy... Namjoon, was it? I've heard bits and bits of your story. Tragic, really. To be abducted by humans and tortured mercilessly..." He took a dramatic pause, staring deep into Jimin's nonchalant expression. Jungkook didn't approach him. "Every hearsay got more and more scandalous. Tell me, Jimin, did you really mate with humans? Did you enjoy spreading your legs for those crude mutts? Did you let them fuck you good?"

Something snapped inside Jimin. He tried to hold back any reaction to what Jungkook said, but his jaw ached from repressing the clench of his teeth.

"I've heard worse, but there's just something so humiliating about them filling you up with their seed and you simply taking it all." Jimin pushed himself off of the bed and took one step closer. Then, a second. A third. He trapped Jungkook in his empty gaze.

Jimin's hand snapped to grip Jungkook's throat, lifting him off the ground, and shoved him against the wall. Jungkook flailed in his grasp, too startled to react sensibly.

"Such a sensitive ego. Hm. Is that why Taehyung left you?"

Jungkook manoeuvred his arm around Jimin's and stretched it out, buckling Jimin's unwavering grasp of his neck. When his feet reached the ground, he wasted no time rebalancing. He leapt forwards, his shoulder against Jimin's chest, and shoved, both landing on the bed.

Jimin wrapped his legs around his waist and hemmed his head under his arm in a gradually tightening headlock. Jungkook struggled, fists thrashing against the arms that held him in place. There was a disadvantage that Jungkook had momentarily forsaken: Jimin was a considerable amount stronger than him. Which meant he had no chance at escaping that solid grasp. It did not mean Jimin couldn't feel pain, that he was invulnerable, but that Jungkook should avoid hits while landing a few good ones. He just had to find a way to free himself and put the theory to the test, a theory he had conjured up in fractions of seconds because his air supply was being cut and he had to act fast.

He set his hands in the mattress and propelled both of them away from it. His head slipped from Jimin's loosened grip and he found his chance. Jungkook pursed his lips and slammed Jimin against a wall of steel cabinets, eliciting a continuous cacophony as he pounded the cabinet doors. Jimin released Jungkook's waist and planted his feet firmly on the ground. Jungkook pulled his fist back and Jimin dipped, the only space left to avoid a punch being below his eye level. He bounced back up and clasped Jungkook's wrist as it finished its trajectory. With the other hand landing on Jungkook's shoulder and a minimum of his strength, Jimin pushed and pulled, twisting their positions, and Jungkook faceplanted the food replicator's cold touch screen. He felt liquid muster in his nostrils and threaten to trickle down, but he was too well held to do anything about it.

" _Please, type in a command._ "

_Slam!_

" _Please, type in a c_ –"

_Slam!_

" _Please, ty–_ "

_Slam_ and _slide_ Jungkook's face across the screen he did.

" _Martian b_ _ull penis._ "

Jungkook frowned. "Wait–" He gasped as Jimin pulled him back once more and the last thing he saw before he struck again was black blood dripping from the screen onto the counter under it.

_Slam!_

The hand on his shoulder pulled him away, spun him quickly, and bent him over in an awkward angle under the food replicator's mouth. Α few subtle lazer streaks scurried over his face, outlining a lengthy, thick, phallic draft, longer than his own arm. Jungkook's eyes expanded with anticipation, but, honestly, who could prepare themselves for a humongous bodiless cock falling on their face? As soon as it materialized and struck his head, Jungkook grabbed it with his free hand and hurled it at Jimin's cheek successfully. He tripped backwards, his hands' reflexes used to catch it before it fell down, and looked at Jungkook with wide eyes. Jungkook slid down the counter and heaved.

"You _eat_ that thing?"

"It's called acquired taste!"

Jimin huffed and flung it back. Jungkook raised his hands defensively and let it tumble to his side. They stayed there for a moment, catching their breath.

"I fail to understand," Jimin said. He gazed at Jungkook. A faint frown altered his delicate characteristics.

"What?" Said Jungkook.

"What are you even doing here?"

Jungkook snorted, his head rested against the counter and philtrum, lips, and chin smeared with black blood. "Meaning..."

"Meaning that, for a trained assassin that joined the Obsidian Defenders, you don't appear that great at fulfilling your missions. Taehyung doesn't seem that difficult to apprehend."

"He isn't."

"Then?"

"You wouldn't understand." Jungkook used the hem of his already dirty shirt to wipe his face sloppily. He looked up at Jimin. "How did you know that?"

Jimin didn't have to ask what. Not many people knew certain bits of Jungkook's past, possibly not even Taehyung, so to refer to that casually made him think.

"I guess you could say I'm good at what I do."

"And what's that? Gossip?"

"Are you implying that everything I know about you is but a rumour?"

"Not necessarily, but I'd be careful if I were you. People don't really appreciate big mouths."

Jimin tilted his head. "That sounds awfully sinister."

"But you don't sound alarmed," Jungkook noted while he studied him.

"You think I should be," Jimin nodded to himself.

"What I think doesn't matter. I just find it funny, 's' all."

"... Are _you_ alarmed?"

"What? No. For you? _Nah_. I barely even know you. But, like, _maybe_ it'd be a waste if you died an ugly death because you can't shut up. What can I say, you left an impression."

Jimin smiled and raised a brow. With a reply usually always ready on the tip of his tongue, he found himself silent. And without uttering another word, he limped out of the room before turning on the protective barrier again. Jungkook scoffed and shook his head.

* * *

Taehyung sat at the very edge of a large bed. A bed they said was now his own. His fingers massaged his chest before clutching his shoulder and letting his arm go limp against his chest. The reflection on the vanity across the bed peered back at him, a feeble copy of who he once was. Laughable. He never was tough enough, to begin with. He was just reduced into a scared weakling, alone and alienated.

_Yoongi was dead. Taehyung slaughtered him_. Unending murmurs cut off the little clarity he maintained, but he was still to blame. The voices, the incessant racket of voices in his ears repeating the same words, belonged to him.

A double knock on the room's door yanked him out of his thoughts. He peeked, startled, and saw a young man standing by the entrance and looking at him with an apprehensive smile. His hair was short, grey ends with greenish tinted roots. Eyes a bright yellow, somehow matching the colour scheme, only to be disturbed by jet black scales, similar to cracked dry land, contouring the edges of his forehead to his cheekbones, to his jawline and then stretching all over his neck undisturbed before disappearing under a longsleeved grey shirt.

"Hello. I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you properly, I wasn't aware you would come at all, to be honest."

Taehyung frowned, but smiled back, unwilling to appear rude. "Um, I don't know who you are?"

"Right–" he boomed and stepped inside. "I'm Taemin. I'm– you could say I'm the leader of the Resistance. It's like a part-time thingy, nothing extravagant."

Taehyung's brows both rose up. The meeting came too suddenly. He thought it'd take some time before being introduced, as _Taemin_ was a dignified figure in his mind. Hard to reach, presumably. _Taemin_ also had a strange way of interchanging between plain and _extravagant_ vocabulary.

"Oh, I'm Tae–"

"Taehyung. I'm aware. Difficult not to be."

Taehyung pursed his lips and nodded.

"There's nothing to fuss about, though. Just make yourself comfortable and we'll chat later. We have tons of things to discuss," Taemin beamed. That cheerful aura he brought in with him had started successfully rubbing off of Taehyung. He felt himself relaxing in the slightest, in some way comforted. Would it be a stretch to say _safe,_ even?

Taemin waited. He shifted weight often from a leg to the other, proof he was overexcited, besides the wide unwavering grin. His deep eyes scanned Taehyung, expecting anything as a response, but only receiving a curt nod.

"Alright. See ya, then."

Taehyung watched him leave with a pep in his step, unaffected by his guest's tension. _Nothing_ like what he had imagined. _Nothing_ like what he had been described as. Taehyung imagined a stoic, decisive leader, that walked purposefully and spoke only when needed. Contrary to the reputation of being vile, avaricious, relentless, focused on his own unmitigated gain. It was impossible to tell with a few minutes of meaningless words exchanged, but Taehyung decided he would feel ambitious about it.

Perhaps coming here was a good idea, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, how are y'all doing? I hope good:)  
> I guess you'll notice too, since the ninth, chapters have started growing in word count. I thought that way would be better than the first barely-1000-words chapters I gave you, but we'll see how this goes
> 
> I decided on a fun little game for me and you, just saying random facts about me and/or this story. maybe you'll learn a thing or two about me, and if you'd like to participate, I'd learn something about you, too!:) If you decide to participate, you don't have to write one at every single chapter, but I will  
> Here goes nothing:  
> #1: while writing a story, a create several drafts in advance and name them randomly (e.g. eggs, bacon, grits, sausage)


	11. Appeal To Solitude

After they escorted him to a room of his own, Jin managed to spend only a few minutes within its confines before taking it upon himself to tour the whole building unsupervised. He guessed they didn't want him to, but it was too late to stop him in what seemed like a period of quiet hours; absolutely no movement or sound detectable other than Jin's arbitrary expedition.

The building, Jin realized, was humongous. It was no such thing as a maze, every corridor split complexes and complexes of rooms equally, like every single inch was accounted for. There were no rounded turns, each intersection showed the stretch of space from one point of the building to the other, letting only its vast expanses hinder its visibility. And windows. Windows were scarcely placed, he noticed. After roaming for about an hour and eventually finding a window, he realized two more things; the building had more floors than he originally thought, and the windows were so rare he had ran on only one of them in this floor after going through every corridor amidst his getting lost on a bored whim. Yeah, okay, if he had had the insight before embarking on this journey, he would've been able to remember where his assigned room was by marking the corridors mentally.

Jin lingered there, studying the outer environment. It was empty. A vast wasteland of ginger sands that were lit by three descending suns, of varied sizes and colours. If there even was any other life on this planet, which he somehow doubted, they were nowhere close. It felt like a strategic move. Yeah, okay, perhaps it was not a bad idea to set base far from people that actively tried to extinguish them, a secure haven for both the victims of brutal politics and the people that ran it.

"Hey," a familiar voice called. He averted his gaze from the outer world for a moment to glance at Namjoon. The warm glow caressed the angles of his face, it mingled with the violet hues of his locks. Namjoon was smiling at him.

"Hey," Jin replied and shifted slightly to have a decent view of him.

"I didn't think you would start the tour of this place by yourself or else I would've stayed back to guide you," he said, a faint frown shifting his grin for a brief moment.

"Am I not allowed to roam the premises by myself?"

Namjoon's eyes widened. "Oh, no, no, you can go anywhere you want. I just thought that, because you only just came here, you might need some help becoming familiar with everything."

Jin's brows furrowed and he crossed his arms to his chest. "Why should I become familiar? I'm not staying."

Namjoon's smile faltered into an awkward purse of his lips. Silence fell between them as he analyzed Jin's words. He brought a hand to his nape and chuckled. "You're right. You were just collateral damage. Had things gone well you'd have remained out of this. Sorry."

"When can I go back then?"

Namjoon pursed his lips again. "When can you leave? Whenever you want. Can you go back to the convenience store? I doubt it will be safe for you there anymore." Jin's frown deepened. He was about to protest when Namjoon spoke in advance. "The government can track any _odd_ activity, which means if the store isn't entirely ransacked by now, it's _very_ tightly monitored. Still, your choice."

Fuck. This.

Jin huffed. Now what? Go where? Staying here wasn't an option he wanted to entertain. Someone on their right mind wouldn't want to be associated with the Resistance, whether the rumours were valid or not. He's already been here a moment too long for his own criteria.

He turned to the window and grimaced. The suns had sunk lower towards a flat horizon, giving the ginger sandhills darker shades, and a gust swirled fractions of sand up in the air, sending them in random directions.

"I don't live here," pointed Namjoon. Jin jerked at the seemingly out-of-place statement. "I'm always on the move, especially nowadays. I don't know when I'll leave again. Could be today, could be tomorrow. Jimin always comes along, too."

Then, it dawned. Namjoon invited him to take off together.

_Kind of_ alarming, in all honesty.

But he kept pleading for things to change and he kept being presented with bizarre solutions to those things that didn't really need such drastic solving. Almost a day ago, he had wanted to quit from the convenience store and go someplace quiet, far away. He'd had Hawaii in mind, not the _edge of the fucking world._ This time he'd get to choose for himself.

Jin remained quiet. Namjoon sighed and pursed his lips, but the warm smile was still there.

"I guess I'll let you know when we'll be departing, in case you change your mind. I'll leave you alone now, sorry if I disturbed you," Namjoon nodded and spun.

"Wait–"

Namjoon's step staggered, but he turned and looked at Jin inquisitively.

"Can you take me back to my room?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -edited-
> 
> short chapter, sorta delayed update  
> I'm not feeling my best, been laying in bed almost all day every day the past week  
> but even short as it is, I didn't half-ass it when I wrote it, so I think it's good  
> I got so many ideas for this story, I promise
> 
> really hope you guys are doing okay🧡


	12. No More

"Is this really necessary...?"

Jin's hand froze mid-air, the little spoon halfway to Jungkook's bloodthirsty mug. Jin turned and looked at Taehyung raising his brow while Jungkook clenched and relaxed his jaw on repeat, eyes locked onto Jin as if he could grind his head into the likes of the puree he offered in that microscopic spoon.

"Of course not!" Jin boomed and forced the spoon through Jungkook's lips. He gingerly scooped up some more and smiled at Jungkook before stuffing him again. "There definitely were other ways to execute this, but I'm afraid they had more, uh, _permanent_ results. Whatever you want, though, I'm not picky."

They had been offered food in a dining hall as large as every other room that was destined for gatherings, which meant _pretty fucking big,_ but in a dining hall filled to the brim with other beings such as themselves, a few seats had been kept empty for them. All five of them had walked by and through the chaos, exchanging stares with some of the heads that turned to look at the newcomers, and whether that meant heads — _plural_ — shared the respective number of bodies or just one seemed to have no significance. Jungkook had been the only one to wear a sturdy block for handcuffs that had swallowed his hands up to his wrists. He'd let the block strike the table's surface, a sound so deep it probably matched its weight.

"Just kill me," Jungkook moaned and Jimin noticed the children watching and perked up with a smirk.

"I think the sheer humiliation of being fed like so is just as permanent as death, but I have to admit, I'm enjoying it as much as our spectators," only when Jimin nodded towards them did the rest notice the children and Jungkook threw them equally lethal glares, making them giggle and change the subject of their focus quickly.

Jungkook was in the middle of rolling his eyes when Jin slipped another spoonful in and it took self-restraint he didn't know he had to keep the lumpy cuffs away from literally anyone's head. He looked away, mortified, and locked gazes with a creature staring up at him, a little girl out of the ones that laughed at his hostile mood.

Her skin a khaki green and hair a pearly white, smoothly caught in a bun at the top of her head, and her curious wide eyes dark while she scanned him as he scanned her. "What are you looking at?" Jungkook hissed and she stood up, unaffected, prancing away.

" _Who's_ a little asshat to every living being he ever meets?" Jin puckers his lips and coos, the spoonful waving in front of Jungkook's face. "Yes, _you are_. _Yes_ , _you are_!"

* * *

Jungkook lazily stepped inside the familiar bedroom and plopped himself onto the bed's edge, facing the door. He looked up, blank gaze meeting Taehyung's wary eyes.

"Was it that bad?" He chuckled and diverted his focus, Jungkook's stare too intense to deal with directly. He appeared miserable whenever he met eyes with Taehyung, as if just looking at him was unbearable, and he felt equally helpless, words and tears threatening to spill and expose his vulnerability.

Jungkook despised him. Coming here and talking to him to what end? To hurt him further? After breaking him, Jungkook had only one purpose left, to fulfil the duty he had been raised by his older brother to respect and conform to, but he couldn't even do that. Yoongi would be disappointed yet again when he discovered what a massive failure he'd end up to be. He needed someone to stir him awake and tell him this was a bad dream, to hold him in his embrace and hum into his ear, to kiss his cheeks and assure him nothing so awful was ever going to happen. He needed Taehyung to do that. Jungkook loved him, still.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see how you were–"

Jungkook scoffed and Taehyung paused. "You don't care. I'm asking again, what do you want?"

Taehyung pursed his lips. "It's not that I don't care, Jungkook, I–"

He scoffed again. "Bullshit. Why are you even talking to me? I thought you said what you had to say and it sure was plenty."

Taehyung swallowed a lump down his throat, but he didn't persist on that subject. Maybe they could get around with small talk. "You're still wearing your guise–"

"Fuck. You." Jungkook hissed and stood up, stomping towards the energy barrier. "You know I _loathe_ my real self, yet you still insist I uncover myself," he raised his voice, "Do you want to see me exposed that bad? Do you want to see how _hideous_ I am _that bad?_ "

Taehyung saw tears painfully carve their way down Jungkook's cheeks when he realized he was crying too, silently. Jungkook brought a shaky hand to his ear and pressed a button, custom made to change his whole appearance.

The expanses of visible skin bleached into a pale, deathly colour, and the area around his eyes darkened into pitch-black holes whose edges stretched and chiselled irregular lines over his face which reminded Taehyung of black and white flowers blooming in the middle of the harshest winter. He recalled more parts of his body covered in black that he saw and cherished when they were intimate and vulnerable in each other's arms. His hands up until his elbows were black, too, as if he'd dipped them in black dye, ready to paint and paint and—

He was his little masterpiece.

These tears that sliced Jungkook's cheeks, Taehyung had never seen them before, but he knew they were hurting and it was his fault.

An unfamiliar dizziness overcame him. He lost focus, and it wasn't the tears that blurred his vision, though he couldn't discern the difference. Jungkook's upset panting, his own breathing, every sound drowned in a distance.

"Does this satisfy you? Are you so sick that you rejoice watching someone so ugly?"

Taehyung sniffed, choking sobs. He let his forehead bump into the energy barrier and lingered for a moment before stepping away in a daze and leaving Jungkook behind, his forehead pressed where Taehyung's was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #3: this chapter is a day late, but don't tell anyone 🤫
> 
> Lmaooo I've lost track of days, just sleeping and eating day in day out, let's hope I don't come out of the quarantine 10 kilos bigger 🤔


	13. Brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -unedited-yet-

The meet-up Taemin promised never arrived. Several days passed without a word from or sight of the leader while Taehyung was left to explore the premises alongside Jimin, though at first he much preferred the comfort of his room rather than the rest of his sterile surroundings.

And he passed Jungkook's room quite a few times, sneaking glances and struggling against the urge to walk in and sit by him on the floor as his fingers entwined shyly with Jungkook's and melted together... Just the picture in his mind, the prickles on his fingertips, the faint memory of his scent made Taehyung's heart race with desire, yet he walked away, even when all of his body cried.

_Yoongi is dead. You killed him._

He grew very fond of Jimin and his bouts of loquacious nonsense, surprised he felt that comfortable around Taehyung as soon as he did. And he was happy it happened, elated to have created a meaningful connection to someone before both their departures. But found himself dozing off too often in the middle of things Jimin was saying and he woke up by chance somewhere amidst random, unfamiliar corridors, which was quite a few times grimmer when he'd realize he was all alone and on his own two feet. Taehyung was terrified he was losing his own mind on his way to kick the bucket– just when he had finally accepted the concept of his death.

One of those nights— or days, time had lost purpose when he slept through the days and nothing even indicated morning or evening— he vaguely recalled falling asleep on the bed and then forcefully coming to by Jimin's strong grip on his shoulders shaking him awake. Jimin had furrowed his brows, towering over him, and, before Taehyung could comprehend the muffled words he spoke, he wondered who had dared to stress someone so beautiful like that.

"– _what I say_ , Taehyung? Can you hear me?"

Taehyung blinked. " _Yes_ –" his voice came out weird, so, he cleared his throat and spoke again, "Yes, I can. What– what's going on?" He sat up and looked around while Jimin retracted his hands and stood straight, the frown fixed on his face. Taehyung's eyes widened impossibly upon detecting Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook standing by the entrance looking equally worried, the only difference being Jungkook's muzzle and cuffs. "Did the leader ask for me?"

Jimin tilted his head and his frown deepened. "The leader? You've met Taemin?"

"Yes, he came by a couple of nights ago, when we first arrived, and greeted me."

"A couple of nights? Taehyung, you've been here for almost two weeks," said Jimin and glanced at Namjoon. He shut his eyes and shook his head. "Get up," he prompted and helped Taehyung to his feet with a tense discard of the sweated blanket.

"Wh– where are we going?"

Jimin firmly pressed the palm of his hand on Taehyung's back and nudged forward while the other three followed. "Remember when we said someone had hired us to apprehend you?" Taehyung nodded and realized Jimin could not see that because he kept his gaze fixed to the corridors stretching in front of them, but it didn't matter in the end. "That's where."

Taehyung still dozed off frequently throughout the fast-paced trek, losing track of what was happening and tripping on his own feet. Sweat still seeped through his skin and wet his clothes. From when he was awakened up until he was tugged inside another room, his mind had fogged tenfold and he couldn't tell if all this hassle had lasted 5 seconds or 5 hours.

Firm hands around his ribs held him up and sat him on a cold surface before his feet were lifted up onto it and hands guided him downwards to lie against it. He let out an uncomfortable sigh once his warm back met the icy table, too far gone to react to the sensation furthermore. Their voices fused together in a muddled noise, but the last and only thing he heard before sinking into the unconscious was a word he hadn't heard in a while.

" _Brother_?"

* * *

Jimin and Namjoon helped Taehyung's drowsy body onto the metal table, quiet and careful.

"What's wrong with him?" Jin asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Jimin looked up. He placed a hand on Taehyung's shoulder and pushed him down with concerning ease. "I have a guess." His eyes went back to scan him, catching on to dark streaks peeking from just above the tight collar of his shirt. 

Of course. It's hard to see something you're not looking for.

Jimin pulled the collar slightly to see the ends unfurl under the shirt. Taehyung's eyes rolled back. "He allegedly stole a cure. Or a biological weapon. But where is it?" He turned and shared glances with them. Namjoon and Jin appeared equally confused. Jungkook, however... He knew. At the very least, he must have had a good guess, just like Jimin did. Though, there was another question that bugged Jimin's attention.

"Why is he wearing a muzzle?"

"He tried to bite me," Jin panned and Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"Please, remove it."

Jin sighed, shoulders slumped, and stepped closer to Jungkook, whose attentive eyes followed his gestures. His hand reached behind Jungkook's head and the muzzle hung down around his throat, looser but still there.

"So, where is it?" Namjoon asked. He leaned on the wall next to the main door and waited for the response.

"He used it," Jungkook muttered. "On himself."

"Did you know this was going to happen to him?" Asked Jimin.

Jungkook's eyes travelled to Taehyung's limp body and he lowered his head. A lump weighed down his throat. "No."

"What's this thing made of?" Asked Namjoon.

"I don't know."

"Why would he do something like that?"

Jungkook raised his voice, "I said I _don't know_! Okay?" They fell silent. Jungkook's brows furrowed together and he kept his gaze low. He continued in a mumble. "I don't know anything. I thought we trusted each other, too, but I must've been living in my own mind for so long I didn't see what was in front of me. I don't..."

They remained quiet. Breathing in the heavy air and the echo of the break in his voice, all to be thankfully disturbed by a shy squeak from the back of the room. They turned together, meeting eyes with two new faces entering the room.

" _Brother_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys:)  
> forgive me for the delay  
> I had a lot of family problems at home and even though that's what I've been saying to my mom, I am not unaffected by what's been happening, but I won't get into the details of that with you, that's not what I'm here for.  
> I just want you to know that if an update is late, something must be going on and I will surely update as soon as possible. At times like these I wish there were more ways to interact on ao3 than just comments on works, just so that I can always keep you updated and we can chat apart from comments, but it is what it is.
> 
> As for the chapter, I didn't originally plan to leave it at around a thousand words, but I felt I needed it uploaded and y'all up to date with why I took so long with no notice.  
> I really hope you're doing well, I hope the people you care about are doing well, and now that the social distancing is being lifted in some countries, I hope you stay safe.


	14. Not A Hallucination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited 😘
> 
> I'll do it at some point I promise

"Hey."

Taehyung sighed, keeping his eyes closed. He had been sleeping, he realized, tucked under the comfortable shield of a soft blanket. It was quiet and warm, and he would very much like to stay where he was, but maybe Jungkook could lie against his chest instead of sitting at the side of the bed, staring.

Jungkook huffed. "I'll haul you off the bed if you don't get up by yourself."

Taehyung grinned. He felt a weight rest over the blanket, over his hip, and pat the spot on repetition. Jungkook's hand tightened around it, urging him to move silently. "When have I ever been opposed to a good, old-fashioned haul?"

He felt more weight press across the expanse of his upper body and warm breath fan over his lips, and when he finally looked, Jungkook was already leaning down with a playful smile, attaching his lips to Taehyung's. Jungkook smelled and tasted sweet, enveloping him in more warmth and drowning all his senses with himself. He played with Taehyung's lips as he played with his patience, never extending the kiss to where the man underneath him craved. Jungkook severed the connection and leaned away to admire him, just as he did the same.

Taehyung's vision was permeated with golden light and the way two dark stars stared down at him, pale skin reflecting a creamy glow gifted from the sun.

"Everybody's waiting for you," Jungkook said and climbed off of the bed. Taehyung frowned. "But if you really don't want to get up, I guess that means more starcakes for me," he sang and capered out of the room.

Taehyung gasped and kicked off the duvet, springing to his feet and running after Jungkook fast. " _Wait_ –" he called and Jungkook glanced over his shoulder with a toothy grin that reached up and crinkled his eyes into crescents.

"Wait," he said again, following Jungkook through a similarly lit corridor. He disappeared into a doorless room across the corridor's other end, which Taehyung assumed was the kitchen by his hindered view of a counter and countertops, one end of a table and a chair, and culinary equipment spread around. He heard the amalgamated hassle of familiar voices and, without obvious, logical reasoning for his reluctance, closed the distance with sluggish steps.

The kitchen and the chaos both unraveled in front of him and he laughed, relieved, before sitting down on the chair and attracting everyone's attention.

"Well, hello there," Jimin beamed from the other end of the table. He sat there, as graceful as always, and watched the others do their thing. They busied themselves with new hobbies while Jimin busied himself with observing how they messed up or had fun, joining in occasions. There was a cutting board in front of him and Namjoon, where they had started slicing fruit together and when, at some point, Jimin had lost all interest in them. Namjoon was slouched over the table, eyes trained on the way the knife slit through the fruit.

"Finally honouring us with your presence, your Highness?" Yoongi asked after peeking over his shoulder, focused on the starcakes frying on the pan. Jungkook stood by him, eyeing both the pan and a large bowl next to the stove, and sneaked a hand in to snatch a fruit, unsuccessfully stealthy. Yoongi threw him a silent glare, to which he smiled cheekily and stuffed the fruit in his mouth. "You've been stealing my strawberries for the past hour. At least leave some for when the rest come."

"I shall not," Jungkook zoomed and grabbed a handful more before rushing to a chair close to Taehyung and giving him one.

Taehyung held onto that strawberry and scanned the room. Yoongi, Jimin, Namjoon, Jungkook, and him. He looked across again, and found Jimin staring back at him. He always knew him better than he knew himself, Taehyung thought, and he could probably see right through him now as well. Before he could open his mouth, Jimin did, "Is there something wrong?"

"Yeah– I mean, _no_ , but, uh," Taehyung mumbled. Jimin stared expectantly while the others paid him no special amount of heed. "Who else are we waiting for?"

Jungkook laughed and shook his head. Yoongi rolled his eyes and flipped the last starcake onto the stack on the counter. Namjoon was absentminded, but Jimin didn't react at all.

"Jin and —," he said.

Taehyung blinked. "Come again?"

Jimin frowned slightly. "I said, Jin and —."

The stove was closed, so the pan was no longer hissing from heat. Namjoon let the cut up fruit slide into the silver bowl in the middle of the table and let both the board and knife down. They were all sitting down, in virtual silence, so what did he hear wrong every time Jimin uttered that word?

"I don't think I heard that second name correctly. Who?"

Jimin tilted his head and the others peeped at Taehyung curiously. Jungkook scoffed, incredulous. "What do you mean _who_? —. — —."

Taehyung felt his breath hitch in his throat as he turned to each one of them with confusion and only received inquisitive stares. No one seemed to be hearing the same jarring, dissonant noise that came out of both their mouths, a tuneless cry that resembled a computer's error message more than it ever would a voice. And, then, he noticed that same orange light, flooding the room through tall windows, that lit every other part of the house he's walked through, a house that didn't exist in his memories while neither did the way they all ended up together in it.

He stared at the strawberry in his palm for a moment before he placed it atop the table in front of him. He lifted his head and turned to gaze at Jungkook, chest heavy. Jungkook's expression lit up with a perplexed smile, but Taehyung's went grim the longer he stared at his eyes. At the reflection staring back at him.

His hand flew to snatch the silver bowl in the middle of the table, tilting it upside down to remove all contents, and brought it closer, watching himself a bit clearer through the distorted mirror. Shaky, black streaks stretched throughout the visible expanses of rotting skin as white, cloudy eyes studied the eerie duplicate of himself.

A smile creeped up on his face, a grin full of malice and decaying charcoal gums that tainted his teeth ashy.

"I fooled even you, didn't I?"

Taehyung stared in horror. He stared motionless, quieted, helpless, like he realized he had been all along.

"You'd disappear and no one would know," he hummed, a hand combing his messy hair back. "Don't think anyone would care."

He set the bowl on the table and looked at Jungkook, who smiled again content as if Taehyung looked at him for the first time that day. A hand laid across Jungkook's sturdy shoulders as he leaned in and met his lips in a short-lived ravenous clash, only this time Taehyung felt dizzy, felt the need to release the nonexistent bile clogging his throat, even more so when he pulled away and saw inky remnants smeared across Jungkook's lips.

"We're back!" A voice boomed throughout the house's silence. The rest resumed mocking Taehyung's lack of memory, as if they'd been left on pause while something else took over every function of his body except his thoughts. That something shifted to greet Jin from the corridor, accompanied by a shadowy figure. A shape of a biped person, close to their heights, but with no other characteristics to its body apart from the way it trembled under the light like screen static.

Jin went to sit by Yoongi, grabbing a starcake and munching on it, oblivious to the pile of squared fruit forsaken over the table. The silhouette stood by Taehyung, a hand set on his shoulder that he didn't really sense; only a light tingle where shoulder met shivering shape. He studied it hard. He noticed angles and slants, distinctions of a face as it moved its head accordingly, a pair of ears when it glanced at Taehyung.

"You're going to be a problem," he mumbled, but as that mumble evaded everyone else's attention, it didn't evade the silhouette. It bent down and cupped both his cheeks, the vibration caressing rotten skin. It leaned over, towards his ear, and he felt waves of heat reach him as it growled, loud and clear, in contrast to the way its name was uttered and its body was formed.

" _Wake up_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact #I'vealreadyforgotten: I prefer writing and creating drafts on wattpad  
> And  
> Fun fact #becauseIknowIalsoforgotlastchapter'sfunfactbutcan'tbothertocheck: I like creating story covers so you'll never catch me asking for someone else to do that 😘
> 
> I hope all of you are doing great, I know I'm not, and being extra careful now that a lot of countries lift the quarantine measures. Tbh I kind of miss going to the university to attend lessons and meet my "colleagues" as our professors enjoy calling us, maybe going to a party or two and getting wasted, but this is worth nothing when it comes to the public's welfare...


	15. Lost Cause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stream d-2

When he had opened his eyes to Yoongi crouched over him, he had almost started crying. Not almost. He'd cried. Hard and pitifully, with a pain in his chest and scary doubts that this might be another dream, a nightmare he'd have to wake up from again. But he had been there alright, alive and intact, as intact as he could have been after...

Yoongi had held him close while he'd cried into his shoulder, calling him a fool under his breath. He'd said the one time Taehyung listened to him, was the one he shouldn't. And when Taehyung whined, before he resumed sobbing, that he thought he was dead, Jungkook's eyes widened comically, because _his brother_ _almost died and he was just out and about for a –as the events are unfolding to reveal– meaningless mission?_

Quite a lot to unpack here, frankly.

"What? What do you mean dead? I didn't agree to you _dying._ You can't die without telling me first."

Yoongi had thrown him a glance, hand petting Taehyung's hair. Then, when the sobs had lessened and Taehyung felt drowsy, he'd gently lay him back on the makeshift bed, with all his objections and grabbing hands rejected to attend to another baby, shifting the responsibility to Jimin.

And now, Taehyung laid there, eyes trained on the two brothers conversing, the rest silent observers. His unfocused mind ran endlessly, fueled by vanished possibilities, grave mistakes, the ominous shadow, the deranged reflection, and all that rot on his skin.

His hand snapped onto his shoulder, searching for that familiar sting and finding none, almost distressed by its nonexistence. Ignoring the lack of clothing on his torso, he pressed and thumbed the spot below his left collarbone, where the lines had flowed out from.

"It's a temporary solution," Jimin commented, startling him. He forgot Jimin had been standing by him from the moment Yoongi left. "A concoction to keep the– thing inside you inactive."

"What are you so _quiet_ for?" Taehyung snapped.

Jimin's brows twitched. The corners of his lips rose up and into a wide grin, and he laughed at Taehyung's spirited response, earning a glare from the latter. "I'm glad you're feeling so much better already."

Taehyung sighed, shoulders slumping. "I guess. What's the point in even caring so much anymore?" He said, to himself rather than Jimin. He figured, admitting defeat would bring out unsolicited replies, the sort with empty words delivering hopeful messages of strength and courage in challenging times, yet he had neither strength nor courage to make up for. "If it's going to be only pain in the end, where does caring matter? I'm over this, anyway."

"No." was Jimin's curt answer. "I know that you've been through some stuff. I cannot say that I get it, nor that I get you, but caring is all there is left in such an ugly world drowned in pain." 

Jimin's gaze flew to Namjoon. After Yoongi had cleared the air, they'd occupied themselves with taunting jabs, mainly towards Jungkook, and light but targeted conversations.  
 _This bastard_ , he thought.

"Caring is all that anchors us to sanity."

Taehyung remained quiet, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His vision blurred and cleared with a blink, tears streaming down his temples. "What if I'm already too far gone?"

Jimin frowned and half-sat on the table to get closer. His hands cupped Taehyung's cheeks, the tips of his fingers wet by the tears, but Taehyung wasn't looking at him, and at this point, he wasn't going to make him. "You're not– hey, you're not." He kept ignoring him. "You're still here with us, and you still care, even if you say you don't, and that's fine. I'm all up for it if it helps. But we're going to exhaust all our options and I'm not taking no as an answer."

Taehyung's teary eyes travelled to his. His hands went and hugged Jimin's waist, and Jimin let go of his cheeks to hug back.

"No matter what."

* * *

"So, the rumours are true?"

"Yes," Namjoon nodded and then shook his head. "And no. He didn't found the Resistance with ill intentions nor does he ever plan to use it for his political inclinations. I guess you could say he has unorthodox hobbies."

Jungkook jerked and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Very eccentric, I have to admit. You don't see many people kidnapping criminal individuals with rare powers they need for insidious purposes and then serving their own justice by executing them. Gaming was just too simple. _Why_ hasn't he been arrested yet?"

"No tangible proof," Jimin mumbled. "Witness testimony is not enough to prompt investigation by intergalactic authorities."

"Does he know Taehyung injected himself with a parasitic life form or does he think it's in his– _external_ possession?" Jin asked, voice heard for the first time in an awfully long while, everyone noticed.

Jimin shrugged. "Unsafe to assume anything."

"We'll just wing it then? Improvise on the spot?" Taehyung questioned and was faced with a short perplexed silence.

"Sure," Jungkook answered and Taehyung stiffened. They didn't turn to look at each other. A lot of unresolved feelings and questions they didn't want to confront each other with and an understanding of how things might actually be better that way. "Not many sensible options left here."

"We should get over with it, then. We've ignored his request for an audience long enough. He could read into that," Jimin huffed out breathless, jittery with impatience as he stood up and strode to the door, no one following him. He looked over hid shoulder to see Taehyung and Yoongi hugging tightly, Namjoon shaking his head disapprovingly. He made a sharp U-turn, lips pressed into an awkward line. "Right. Goodbyes."

"It's my fault," Yoongi hummed by Taehyung's ear. "I hardwired both of you to be idiots."

Taehyung chuckled, shaking both of them, and nuzzled on top of Yoongi's shoulder, a wound on the left part of his chest that he meticulously avoided like virulent poison. Never was much of a hugger, that old man, but neither knew when they'd be seeing each other again. "It's _not_ your fault. Not totally, I mean. Some things are just meant to break."

Yoongi pulled away to look him over. "You sure you don't want us to come along? It might drag us backwards a little, but I can't care for that if you want us with you."

Taehyung shook his head and pursed his lips. "No, you should go. It's what's best for everyone. I am going to miss you, but knowing you're not dead because of me is a relief of itself."

Yoongi squinted. "I feel like what you said could be interpreted in more than one ways, but I'm going to leave it at that. For now."

Taehyung chuckled again, a wide grin etched onto his face. He held tighter the last few moments as a familiar sense of dread tickled his sensations.

* * *

"Come closer. I won't bite."

Taehyung took but a hesitant step forward, perhaps a second, to stand in the centre of the first floor in a spacious two-story library. Every wall was covered with shelves of books, standing as tall as the rest of the rooms of the building, and to his right a staircase leading upstairs. He could make out some desks through the balusters, and more walls covered by books.

Taemin was leaning against a shelf, face obscured by a worn-out volume he held and read attentively, unbothered by the guests' entrance to the quiet room. Taehyung felt Jimin's presence remain quietly by the door as if overseeing the meeting.

"You've been treated very well by our organization, Taehyung, which is more than most criminals in our hands get to say," he said and snapped the book shut. Taehyung frowned upon the sight of clear skin, no more scaled, black crust to drown the expanses of a pale complexion. Gone within a short amount of time. Did he imagine that, too?

Taemin smiled, lightly snickering at Taehyung's wide eyes, but he avoided addressing the obvious. The more he yapped, the more he got on his nerves. Taemin had changed attitude seemingly overnight, made his incentives evident and hunted for his prey while beating around the bush. "We pride ourselves by not being airheaded, which consequently indicates we are not stupid enough to let a fugitive merely saunter around. We certainly do not give them their own rooms in the most important section of the building."

"So, you've been kissing my ass all along?" Taehyung blurted. Extremely funny and uncomfortable to think Jungkook's crude language rubbed off on him only after breaking it off. Taemin's eyes snapped to Jimin for a second. "What do you want?"

"What do you think I want?"

"A weapon of mass destruction doesn't really fall in line with the preachings of the Resistance," he sneered. "Why do you want it? You don't even know what it looks like."

Taemin placed the volume on a shelf and sighed. He started pacing back and forth, a safe distance away. "I doubt you know what it is. Its potential. The _prospects_ it carries."

"Tell me, then," Taehyung shrugged and Taemin gave him a small, empty smile. He was losing his patience and Taehyung wondered if something triggered his change in behaviour or if he was pretending from the start. Taehyung knew pretend when he saw it, and that first day wasn't it, even when the others insisted he'd always been like this. Manipulative. "Help me understand and if you can convince me, I'll give it to you."

"There's not enough time to explain its significance; I could start now and _never_ end," he said, eyes glimmering with excitement and some sort of– hedonic thrill, almost as though he correlated it to sexual pleasure.

Taehyung eyed him under furrowed brows. "I call bull. Choosing who to help survive given their conditions makes you nothing sort of a saint and I will not give you more means to abuse other beings."

His lips twitched, losing the satisfied gleam for a canny, empty stare. Impossible to read and too spontaneous to expect a specific reaction out of him, and the more he stood there, the more Taehyung felt the anticipating silence, the regret of playing brave weigh on his shoulders. A futility to Jimin standing a few metres away when Taemin, the Resistance's leader, known for saving and recuperating millions of dead-planet survivors, was also notorious for serving unauthorized _heinous_ _justice_ against beings on the other side of his own moral codes, where he placed Taehyung.

He'd been left in the cage with a beast that glared at him so murderously, just to wait for it to pounce on its prey.

"Wrong answer," says Taemin and takes a step forward, close enough that his hand could touch Taehyung's face if he reached out to– which _he did_. He had no idea how he noticed that, but it seemed Taemin revered and sated the way his fingers were stretching out to finally touch his victim; so special and so _lethal_. "Real shame, man. You could have– _guuhr_ _—_ "

A guttural groan tore through his throat as he seized up and spasmed, face contorted with shock and pain as he fell back, on his ass. Taehyung was stuck staring at a familiar reaction to electrocution when a hand clasped around his wrist and yanked him backwards, helped him refocus on running out and away, their eventual destination the hangar and not Taemin's torture chambers.

Jimin led the way, a faster runner than Taehyung, one hand twined with his and the other holding onto the Namjoon if-that's-just-a-prototype-what-will-its-debut-version-do stun gun.

He squeezed Jimin's hand back, to which he looked over his shoulder when he deemed it safe enough, and flashed a gingery smile. A moment he engraved in his mind, as he liked to do, before he had to focus on running and the impending hunt of Taemin's like-minded cavalry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh hi  
> freestyling updates I guess
> 
> I'm not doing good, BUT that doesn't say anything about this work other than delayed updates  
> I'm working on writing a bunch of chapters beforehand so that you won't wait with nothing for long  
> Also working on updating twice a week (I know the irony of that when the last two updates were in the course of a month, trust me) but I wILL work hard on that 🧡
> 
> Fun Fact #Ialmostforgotitagain: I've been flirting with several new work ideas and aus and prompts, but I know very well that if I start another right now I'll never make it to the end of this one. Maybe I'll start planning it during this one's last chapters, but we still have a long way to go


	16. Quick Escape

"Minor issue."

"Don't 'minor issue' me, this is hardly the time-"

"Bobby refused to remotely open the hangar's doors," Namjoon said and Yoongi froze.

"Major issue. _Major_." Yoongi's head bobbed, a nod to himself that yes, _we're fucked_ , and an electric current of dread surging through his skin.

They had been stationed in the hangar for the while it'd take Jimin and Taehyung to run back, tasked to prepare the spacecrafts and themselves for urgent takeoff, but the sirens had blared and their way out was blocked by gates thick by meters of sturdy materials. 

"What do we do?" Namjoon asked, Jin and Jungkook exchanging glances back and forth. "The only other thing I can think of-"

"Don't," Yoongi groaned. "Just don't."

"Anyone care to inform us of what's happening?" Jin asks, exasperated with being ignorant alongside Jungkook, the two watching Yoongi and Namjoon go back and forth with sentences that helped them understand nothing.

Namjoon sighed, shoulders slumping. "The hangar's gates open with one of two ways; either remotely on a touch pad, which Bobby is very conveniently singular handler of, who denies us assistance, or _manually_ on the control panel by the room's double doors."

"Oh, shit," Jin exclaims, and earns frowns, rightfully so.

"What are _you_ anxious about? No one was going to ask you to do it," Jungkook scoffs and lowers his voice, not enough that they wouldn't hear, but that was the point, "It's not like you've done much since you came here. A pet rock would've been more useful."

Jin threw him a silent scowl, not choosing to respond, but not without letting it affect him first. He already felt like a decorative plastic plant amongst people driven by personal ideals and ultimate goals, _things to lose_ , no thanks to Jungkook's strenuous efforts to stab him with mouth knives. Besides the real ones.

He sighed. "Anyone familiar with Earthly literature?"

A chorus of shrugs and low, negative hums came his way, along with a roll of eyes.

"This has to be one of the most common tropes."

Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, curiosity slightly picked. "Go on."

"Something goes wrong. Thing can't be managed in any other way except manually, so person stays behind until the rest are safe enough to join them. Something else goes wrong. Person dies."

All three stared a bit dumbfounded, probably lost somewhere between 'thing' and 'person', but seemingly grasping the main idea. They sat in a strangling silence to think about it, and Jin cursed himself for deciding to mention something so foreign to them, that could or could not even apply. Maybe he should stay silent and let more decisive people take the wheel.

"It makes sense, but," Namjoon started and Jin looked at him surprised, "there is not much of a choice. Someone _will_ have to stay behind and- dying is something we've got to risk if we want to ever get out of here."

"I'll do it," Jungkook mutters, eyes fixed on the floor.

" _No_ -" Yoongi snaps and turns to Namjoon, "See, _that's_ why we should've kept to ourselves. _You're_ doing nothing, young man."

The double entrance doors hit the walls harshly, a thunder echoing through the room, as Jimin and Taehyung zoomed inside, deleting the distance between them.

"What're you still doing here?! We need to go!" Jimin yelled.

"We can't open the gates," admitted Namjoon, defeated, and Jungkook moved away from the group silently as Jimin went off with disbelief.

As if he wouldn't notice, Yoongi thought, he flounced over, having covered half the distance between the group and the control panel, a strong hand landing on Jungkook's shoulder. He stopped, but did not turn. The muscles under Yoongi's fingers were tense, determined. Yet, at the same time, a sense of quitting.

The words came out weak, and Yoongi somehow knew the only way he could ever stop someone as stubborn as his little brother from doing what he wanted to do, was to knock him unconscious and drag him out of the situation. "Let me do it, Yoon. It's all I have left. Making sure you get out of here safe."

"And what about after that?" Yoongi asks, his lips bitten every time he paused. "What does it matter to get out of here safe if we die an hour later? The next day? What is the point?"

"You have to start somewhere. If that means leaving me behind, whatever the consequences on me, let it be, then."

Yoongi filled his chest with air and let out a heavy sigh.

Jungkook spasmed and released a choked groan before he collapsed on his knees and then on his side. He looked up from where he lied, the canister of the gun smoking in Yoongi's hand.

"You're unbelievable," he grumbled, all muscles except the necessary locked and stilled into place.

Yoongi pursed his lips and turned to wave the gun in the air. "It's smoking, should it do that?"

"Who knows?" Namjoon shrugs, "it's the first version. Hey, at least he didn't get electrocuted right?"

Yoongi picked up Jungkook's ankle, gingerly swiping the floor all the way back to the prepped spacecrafts. "Yeah, but make sure you do something to distinguish them. I only used this one because Jimin had the other one."

Jungkook frowned deeply and rolled his eyes. "What are you gonna do then, huh? How are we supposed to leave without opening the gates?"

"Easy," Yoongi hummed. "We blow it up."

They settled quickly into their respective spacecrafts, the tetrad in a bigger vehicle than the pair, and Jungkook plopped and secured into the copilot's seat, watching quietly as Yoongi pressed various buttons to prepare for takeoff. In an effort to communicate, they connected their broadcasting systems to correspond to each craft's exclusive ID, for future purposes more than their current need to sync to avoid firing explosives at each other.

Jungkook could barely feel a buzz under more keen parts of his skin, the craft's hum indicating its own readiness to depart, and he felt a weight on his throat as though the process took too long without consequences on them. Too safe.

" _Ready?_ " Came Namjoon's voice through the comms. They faced the closed gates towering over them, that it felt like a joke six tiny existences wanting to take them down. Maybe they had more balls against two solid, seemingly impenetrable walls than an army of people, for better or for worse.

"Does it even matter?"

"... _Right,_ " was the last thing the two heard before the deafening zoom of a projectile sliced through the air and penetrated the centre of the gates with a flat, awkward sound.

They waited a moment of pure anxiousness while absolutely nothing happened, all their eyes darting here and there and air becoming heavier to breathe.

" _I thought I clearly told you_ not _to use your experiments on critical situations, Namjoon,_ " said Jimin.

" _I think you overestimate these_ _ships'_ _ability to wreck a several metres thick wall; my intervention was_ clearly _needed here._ "

" _...if we don't die here, today, I_ am _going to fucking strangle you someday._ "

Their bickering was cut short by a first, unimportant crack, chipping small pieces of debris around the area the projectile entered into. And then, as if it was simply gaining momentum for something bigger, it exploded with gradual bursts, growing into earsplitting volumes and much larger chunks popped off. They observed, a bit stunned to be honest, and anxious when the first golden rays pierced through the tiniest crack up until the point the gap became wide enough for them to pass through. So caught up in the moment of their escape they were, so ready to take off and embark on important journeys.

Yoongi led his craft behind Namjoon's through the gap, and they flew far away for several kilometres before he rose next to the larger one for a stationary greeting.

"We'll be seeing you again. Probably," Yoongi said and heard chuckles over the comms.

" _Let's hope that's under better circumstances, Commander_ ," Namjoon sneered and Yoongi let his head hang low.

After a pause, Jungkook took the chance to chip in something, too. "I don't really want to see any of you ever again. Let's hope I've died by then," he said and Yoongi threw him a scowl.

* * *

"I can't even get how lucky we got back there," Jimin admitted, leaning against a wall across the cockpit where Namjoon flew them away from the planet's atmosphere, opposite to Yoongi and Jungkook's destination.

"Yeah, we spent too much time arguing what to do, feels very weird no one chased after us," agreed Taehyung. They stayed silent for a moment, sensing the ship shake and hum under their feet as Namjoon skillfully fought through vacuums and sandstorms that reached all the way to their height.

Jimin's face scrunched up. "Not what I was talking about... But that, too, I guess."

Jin frowned, waiting for him to continue. "What _were_ you talking about?"

"Taemin. He almost touched Taehyung, that would've been _ugly_ ," he sighed and the other two exchanged wide-eyed stares.

"Um, Jimin? What do you mean?"

Jimin looked up at both of them, realising with guilt they couldn't have possibly known what he and Namjoon knew, and that they probably should've informed them earlier. "Uh, eh, it's not that big of a deal, he would just have him petrified by his fingers alone. Literally turned to stone. No wonder he's like that, he can't even get laid."

"And no one came after us? For real?" Jin insisted and Jimin stared into his eyes, first with disbelief that slowly changed into horror.

He pushed his weight off of the wall and stormed into the cockpit. "Namjoon, _Namjoon_."

"Jimin, _Jimin_."

"We would know if someone extra had boarded this craft along with us, right?"

"Yeah, I made sure we would," he bragged.

"Would the others know? Did you make sure for them, too?"

Namjoon's smirk faded slowly while he processed what the question's answer meant and what Jimin implied.

" _Shit_. _Fuck_ , Jimin."

"Contact the others."

Namjoon sighed, "I can't. Jimin, I _can't_. We're in the middle of a storm, I can't contact them. I can't contact anyone, I can't. I– I can't."

"Namjoon– hey," Jimin tried and he couldn't believe the lies about to leave his mouth, "Hey, I'm sure nothing's wrong. If not, they can handle this, they're tough bastards. I just needed to confirm it, because _I'm_ worried, alright? No need for you to worry, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

* * *

"I'm never going to forgive you for this." Jungkook whined, stretching his muscles behind the copilot's seat.

Their own spacecraft was much smaller in comparison to the other one, but convenient enough for the two of them. Consisted of two rooms only, the cockpit extended with three more passenger's seats and the boarding gate, and a bedchamber with the john a few metres away.

"We got away successfully, didn't we? No one's dead, no one's left behind, just a small hole in their hangar," Yoongi mumbled, zoned out at the view of the vast deserts eclipsing with the evening sky. "There is food in a cabinet in the bedroom if you're hungry. We have some time to waste until we get there."

"Where?"

"There," Yoongi countered and looked over his shoulder to see Jungkook roll his eyes. "You'll know when we arrive."

Jungkook shifted away from him, shaking his head, but hunting the snacks. He went on to disengage actions from thoughts as his hands mechanically pried open several cabinets –as if there were a lot– till he spotted and grabbed the food, uninterested even in the kind of things he was about to feed himself with.

After shutting the cabinet closed, he turned on his heel and walked, before he noticed and freezed out of the corner of his eye another figure in the same room, an excess being he was sure was not supposed to be there as he looked straight ahead at Yoongi's muff of hair leaning backwards onto the pilot's chair.

"I would _never_ let y'all go that easily. Promise," the person voiced and Jungkook snapped to the side to see a man eyeing him viciously, rocky black scales decorating his skin scarcely, associative to disease and death; unarmed yet still fatal.

"Yoongi!" Jungkook yelled and sprinted out of the room, alarming his brother fast, but not fast enough. He saw Yoongi jump up quick, and snatch the paralysis pistol, aiming behind Jungkook in a matter of seconds, that didn't matter in the end, as rough fingers fisted his bicep firmly. He extended his other hand, trying to reach out to his brother, "Yoongi–"

Yoongi punched a button and opened the boarding gate. He aimed the pistol back to Taemin and fired, making him lose balance and get sucked out the ship through a big enough opening, which was closed soon after. He dropped the pistol and dashed to Jungkook, catching his open, unbending hand in his own.

"Hey, _Jungkook_ , hey. _Hey_ , do you _hear_ me, Jungkook?"

Jungkook's eyes went down to Yoongi's. He felt the urge to meet him in an embrace, just when he realised he no longer could. He was rooted into place, limbs not just limp anymore, but stiff, wooden extensions of his body. "Yoongi? What's happening to me? What's–?"

"I _don't know_ , Kook," he repeated, a shaky hand cupping Jungkook's cheek. Tears filled up his eyes quickly. He watched Jungkook's fly around, agonizing terror washed over them.

" _Brother_ –" he wailed, and the rocky scales started engulfing him, covering his skin with a black coarse surface. They rose up his neck in a slower pace, and he didn't know it until he had to, when he inhaled his last ragged breath and stopped altogether, before it had even reached his eyes.

" _No_ , _Jungkook! Jungkook! Jungkook–_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I don't enjoy listening to sad songs, ballads or whatever. I can appreciate their artistic parts and I can know a good song when I hear one, I just don't like feeling sad and songs that make me feel that are a big no. Which means I listened to e.g. Truth Untold or WAB: The Eternal a few times, but I can't ever listen to them again. Make me sad. I don't like that.
> 
> This one seems to have taken longer oops 😅 problem is I started working two days after the last update and this hoe (the cafe's owner/my manager) has made me do everything for a puny salary, but it's my only shot at gaining experience in this small town, and I'll have to do it if I want to extend to a larger corporation when I decide to move out and while I still study at the University. Still preparing chapters for you tho 💜


	17. No Matter What

He let the ship fly on autopilot for a while, after they successfully entered outer space. Contact with the other spaceship seemed unlikely to happen the more he tried the comms and came up with lifeless static, but he set a continuous signal sent their way, in hopes of eventually connecting with them. Now, he sat atop the 'conference' table a few metres away, watching the cosmos splay out the window with a cold beer in his hand and the all too familiar sentiment of being disappointed in yourself.

Jimin and Taehyung conversed lowly on the pitiable lounge behind him; just an old sofa and a coffee table, a screen hung on the wall across which hadn't been used in years.

Jin walked back and forth, at first lost in his thoughts and then approaching Namjoon with timid steps, not knowing what to do with himself.

"There's no need to feel apprehensive. I wouldn't have invited you to come with if I didn't want to," he said before he raised the glass bottle to his lips and downed a gulp. He glanced at Jin who smiled in his guilt and took more decisive steps to lean against the table next to him.

"Sorry. That's human, right? Where did you get it?" Jin pointed with his chin at the green glass bottle.

"Oh, yeah. You'll see I always find ways to get the things I want no matter how out of reach they are – and beer's one of the few human products I actually enjoy. Where else would I be able to _drink_ fungi like this one? Amazing."

Jin chuckled and focused on the starry void in front of them.

"What is it about Earth?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, I mean, why did you choose Earth? I know I wouldn't have chosen it as a post, had there been a choice."

Jin stayed quiet for a second.

"Well, when you're trying to leave your past life behind, it doesn't always matter where you end up, right?"

"Okay, first of all, that sounds ominous, secondly... If you care more about where you end up than what happens along the way, I'd barely call that living," Namjoon said, eyebrows raised up his forehead to emphasize his point.

Jin stared dazed. "Would you call what you're doing 'living'?"

"I've met some damn good people on my trips here and there. I've lost friends, made friends, I've felt happiness, I've been hurt. Isn't that what life is about? Experiencing both the bad and the good, and growing from them. Seems like people only want the good, but there has to be a balance. For me it's kinda shitty currently, but I'm hoping on some balancing out soon," he spoke while a side smile adorned his features and while the stars outside the window reflected on his eyes.

"You sound like you found the secrets of the universe."

"Nope. To staying sane, perhaps, yeah." Namjoon looked over his shoulder and met eyes with Jimin. "Someone had to."

Jin followed his gaze. It didn't feel too out of place to ask, but it still felt like a sensitive subject. "What happened? If it's alright."

Namjoon scoffed, "Too much happened. Humans, you know. They get their hands on something new and decide to exhaust it until they don't want to play with it anymore."

"Sounds very ominous."

Namjoon scoffed. "Worse. After Baring Day, a lot of non-human disappearances, to put it kindly, took place. Whole neighbourhoods wiped."

Jin nodded, recalling instances he witnessed with his own eyes. "I was present to some of those, unfortunately. I remember trying to help people with my body, until they brought out larger guns," he paused, the imagery still vivid in his memories. Opening his eyes under the blazing sun and halfway engulfed by remains, left behind in a deserted city. "Waking up in a lake of blood and guts."

Namjoon sighed. "Things went sideways and humans showed who they were. Greedy, possessive beings. Our post was being pulled out and they didn't like it. They wanted more, they always do. They locked us up, experimented on us, tortured us. Jimin and I escaped, others died trying, and the rest remain their lab rats. If they're still alive, of course."

"And now?"

"What?"

"What're you doing now?"

Namjoon turned to the half-empty bottle in his palm. "Staying sane."

* * *

" _Guys? Namjoon? Taehyung? Is anyone listening?_ "

They snapped out of the bleak flashbacks and jumped onto their feet at the faint sound of Yoongi's rundown voice through the comms, all four dashing over to the cockpit in a hurry.

"Yes? _Yes_! I can hear you, Yoongi. What's wrong– Are– are you guys okay?" Asked Namjoon, too fearful of the answer.

They waited in silence for a moment. They could see that Yoongi was still connected, but heard nothing back. He was sat on the pilot's seat, eyes out of focus, and suddenly not so eager to open his mouth and give form to where his thoughts were going. He recognized the statue's presence behind him and it terrified him to think that's all it took to lose Jungkook.

" _It's_ –" he started, choking on the words. " _Jungkook._ _Taemin_ _was here and I– Jungkook–_ "

"Don't say anything, Yoongi. You said you were heading over to the Seventeenth, right?" Jimin interrupted, crouching over Namjoon's shoulder.

Another pause.

" _What?_ "

"You set course for the Seventeenth, didn't you?"

" _What does that have to do with anything–_ "

"You go there and ask for Minghao. Tell him I sent you. I hope he'll be able to help you."

" _Who is that_?"

"He's a healer. A bit uncanny, but he means well."

"... _Okay, Jimin_."

"Be sure to make contact with us often, Yoongi. The Seventeenth is not the safest of places to be," Namjoon commented.

" _Yeah, we..._ I'm _aware. I'll be careful. I'll get back to you guys soon._ "

When the connection was severed, they sighed collectively and dispersed from almost mounting Namjoon's chair. Thinking the two of them would receive help out of the generosity of _these_ people's hearts seemed a longshot, yet the worst of their problems were still far away in their horizon and it was too early to have to give one of the six of them up.

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh fun fact I don't have a specific genre of music I listen to, if it sounds good then it's automatically added to my playlists, but I guess the main genre dominating those playlists is hiphop
> 
> Oh also that old hag fired me so yay more time for you 💜


	18. Old New Enemies

Sweaty, dizzy, tired.

It most definitely took amounts of energy he should reserve for his survival to continue the unprompted tinkering with the whatsis in his hands, but he sure seemed comfortable enough leaning back on the flimsy pilot's seat, feet propped up all the way on the instrument panel.

His muscles ached at every movement, he reckoned they'd hurt worse from the way he had arranged his body on the chair, though he wasn't one to concern himself with such trivialities on his last minutes of conscious breathing followed by an unavoidable demise –as if death was ever in an uncommitted relationship to life. Just as committed as he was to dying doing what he loved –starting the process of building another brainchild only to have it paused and abandoned until he felt guilty enough to continue. 

The breaths he took were becoming shallower by the second, chest contracting with shorter intervals. And he felt the effects of a wrecked spaceship's efforts to make oxygen and fuel last longer on his cold limbs and sweaty forehead, signs of his succumbing to hypoxia. He had time, he had thought.

He gave up on the trinket, a pitiful little thing laying on his lap, shoulders slumped and fingers slacking off gratefully. 

Shit was rough.

He raised his gaze at the window of the cockpit towering him. _What an idiot_. He could've spent this time stargazing the grandeur of the galaxies stretching right across, a view most people of his kind only dreamed, fantasized, wrote about. A sublime spectacle of green and golden hues he found himself flirting often with, up until this very moment. Bad time to be human.

"It's just the two of us, now, honey," he mumbled to the cosmos. "I gotta say, you're looking knockout stunning this– _awfully_ tragic evening...

_Oh_ ," he scoffed and laughed to himself, extremely aware of how this could seem to third parties listening. "Don't be _shy_ , peach. Here, lemme put some music on and relax for a hot minute."

It cost him way more energy and sheer willpower than he had hoped for to extend his arm over to an obsolescent smartphone just centimetres to his right, balanced on the armrest. Prepared just for this, a playlist of the songs popular during the time he left Earth. 'Left'. Abducted by accident and let's leave it at that.

He pressed play and dropped his hand then and there, at the side.

The melody filled the silence, drowned his emptiness where it'd become unreachable untill he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. He had come to the realization early 2000s' songs possessed _that_ godgiven capability when he played particular songs in repetition, but did it really matter in the inevitable end? Yes. Yes, it did.

Hoseok hummed to the first verse. Kind of. Because the humming came between and during interrupted breaths, so, that proved to be difficult, too. He scoffed again, kind of. All his littlest things, taken, and here _he_ was.

Adrift in space and dying while jamming to Kelly Clarkson.

"— _and all you'd ever_ hear _me say, is how I pictured_ me _with_ you –come on, peach, you know the song."

Iconic. Simply epic.

He heard other words stumble into the lyrics and frowned, extremely displeased with the failed attempts to sing along and he couldn't even discern their meaning. With an insubstantial sigh, Hoseok allowed his eyelids to drape over his dry eyes.

"... _I repeat– We received the distress signal. Do you read us? Can you reply? If you don't answer, we'll step in..."_

* * *

"You know this person?"

"Uh, sort of."

"'Uh, sort of'? It's a yes or no question."

"Complicated past, really, that's all."

"Elusive, but I'm not going to press."

"Can we at least know what kind of person is he?"

"Imagine Jungkook."

"I will _not._ "

"Can we return him?"

" _No_ – bad combination of words, Namjoon."

"...he _is_ sort of, kind of, a Jungkook 2.0."

" _Why?_ "

"I think I'm ready to undo my life right now."

"Namjoon– I need you to not open your mouth to make sounds again for a couple of minutes."

They halted bickering when they noticed eyes flutter open and gaze upon the ceiling, disoriented.

The four of them surrounded the table where they laid Hoseok, at first unsure if they had managed to save a life or not by the looks of his unresponsive body. A concern soon relieved by a sudden jerk of his muscles and the positive jumpstart of his lungs from the intake of breathable air; gases the rest four were mostly immune to.

"So," he started, an immediate regret due to a throat resembling a desert drier than Sahara. "This can't be in heaven, because this is no Carribbean beach and there's no mojito in my hand."

"There are multiple reasons you'd never end up in heaven and they're positively valid. You are alive and well," said Jimin, pretty polite given the suggestive signs of chaotic confrontations.

Hoseok peered at him for a second, then at Namjoon, Jin, Taehyung. He had a double take at the brunet beauty and stayed there, engaging his bashful, uncertain stare. The corners of Hoseok's lips were practically yanked upwards for a shameless smile that made Taehyung avert his eyes to anywhere else except the two distasteful scowls, one stifled grin, and their new guest.

He moved for the first time, _also_ shamelessly, but with the feature of excruciating pain, wiggling to lie on his side and turn his back on Jimin and Namjoon, nimbly propping his head on the palm of his right hand. "And who might you be?"

Taehyung looked at his three companions for help, eyes flying back and forth, and received none. They were as dense as the walls of the Resistance's fortress, utterly oblivious to the meaning he coped to share with his panicked gaze. _That_ had to change.

"I'm Taehyung," he mumbled, finally.

With the smile plastered on his face, Hoseok's eyes only brightened. "I'm Hoseok. What a _pleasure_ to meet you."

"You _could_ , I don't know, say _thank you_ for saving your life instead of hitting on a person you've known for two seconds, but maybe that's just me," Namjoon groused, arms twined over his chest with irritation.

"That's just you," purred Hoseok.

"Where are you from?" Jin asked and, at that, Hoseok's uninterested eyes travelled over to him. Nothing on him gave an indication, no peculiarities limited to specific kin, just the austere outer characteristics of a plain human façade, and which implication was almost impossible for a number of reasons.

"Earth," he deadpanned.

Jin frowned. "How is that possible?"

Hoseok sighed. "Anything is possible if you believe in yourself. I knew I was destined for _great_ things as a young boy and it took a lot of _courage_ and _persistence_ to achieve my dreams and fulfill my goals–"

"– _kidnapped_ by human traffickers," Namjoon butted, ending the theatrics with an anticlimax, "by accident."

"Party pooper."

"That sounds like an interesting story," Jin commented and earned eyes rolling as a response.

"It is an extremely interesting and long story that _only_ my besties know and no one else."

Namjoon shook his head before turning to depart. "A very short story of how he's just another stupid human and, also, he has no friends."

Hoseok gasped. "That's _speciest_."

"Whatever. You're welcome to disembark and go your merry way whenever and wherever we land, no exceptions."

Hoseok pursed his lips and struggled to sit up on the table. The rest three dispersed around the ship as well, engaging in small talk, but no more words words directed to him.

In all honesty, he was thankful he was saved, no matter who the people that did it were. And, in more ways than one, he was lucky he ended up with _those_ three over someone possibly more dangerous to him than he was to them, but it did not stop being an incredible coincidence.

Yeah, he felt weird, too. Sitting upright on that table, the same cosmos he had been courting mere moments before _almost_ discovering if baby Jesus was real or not.

He smiled at her again. He pushed himself off the table and walked away, quite eager to explore his new ship. Definitely grab a snack.

" _You_ had _your_ chance, _you_ blew _it_... out _of sight_ , out _of mind_..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I had a surprising amount of fun while writing this 🤔 I hope that doesn't make it a stark difference between the previous chapters and I sure as hell hope I have this much fun writing the all upcoming ones!! Really refreshing 👌👌  
> Do tell me if you had as much fun as I did introducing Hoseok to the story! I had planned his introduction a while ago and I had already formed this chapter when I saw certain tweets mocking how he is a usually neglected character in bts fanfiction and I felt guilty for taking this long to bring him in, but, I assure you he is —not— less important than the rest members.


	19. Seventeenth District

Taehyung entered the lounge where Jimin and Jin sat with decisive strides and clear intentions in his head, all of which were wiped out the moment he laid eyes on Hoseok further away and the nonexistent fabric that was supposed to cover his torso. It took three seconds and a double take for his brain to register that the human was lying under the instrument panel, tampering with the machinery down under. Was his interference even needed?

The other two were simply existing on the sofa, chill and as unbothered as one could be, always in contrast to Namjoon, who fled the scene distressed. As long as the ship could fly on autopilot until they reached their destination –which wouldn't be long now– he'd find himself in his room and his discomforting thoughts.

"I didn't know there was a problem with the ship."

Jimin kept his legs crossed and his hands occupied with a last month's copy of a magazine. He always checked his self-composure, except when it came to Hoseok. Jimin sighed with defeat. "There is not."

Taehyung leaned against the sofa's headrest and glanced at Jin's figure facing the activated screen. "So, why is he doing... _that_?"

"You'll find you'll never be able to understand why he does the things he does."

"Au contraire," peeped Hoseok, looking up. "I'm a very simple person. Come here," he motioned Taehyung over and slid from under the panel.

"I realise I'm nothing sort of a mystery to you, a _human_ in space. Honestly, it's a burden I carry wherever I go, a gift, a _curse_." Jimin audibly clicked his tongue and Hoseok almost threw daggers from his scowl.

"Pass the nut driver."

"The _what_?"

Hoseok peeked over the tool box close to him, spotting the handle easily. "That red thing."

Taehyung, somewhat uneasy, bent and passed the tool, without, of course, missing the chance to ogle the way his skin _somehow_ glistened from sweat. The warmest the ship's ever been in their time on it was barely room temperature.

"Ask away, wee alien. Allow me to enlighten you."

"How are you still alive?"

"Of _course_ , I'll tell you how I ended up– wait, what?"

"What?"

Hoseok stilled. For the first time in a while, in a long, _long_ while, Jimin noticed, too, he didn't have a response ready. Because every person he'd ever meet was obligated to sit through a spiel of how he managed to get taken from Earth at the early, pubescent age of 14, and, like the proud cock he was, he never got tired of it. Because revealing _that_ was much easier than what happened afterwards.

"I," he started and trailed off. Jimin's attention was on him, now, too. He knew.

Hoseok lowered his hands from the mechanics overhead. It was very much out of time and place, but he, _then_ , perceived the existence nut driver in his palm. Damn. He really made himself believe he had subdued reality to the dark hours of the sleepless nights.

"He didn't." Answered Jimin instead.

Heavy silence fell on them, nothing but the low voices of reporters on the screen Jin was still watching intently.

"Oh, okay, that explains absolutely _nothing_. Come _on_ , guys, work with me here."

Hoseok wheezed. He pushed himself out of that narrow space and tidied up after himself in a hurry. "I died. Well, _technically_. I'm pretty obviously still alive."

He looked up, a buoyant smile to meet Taehyung's puzzled stare. He let out an exhale filled with a certain annoyance, a kind the tingled his recollection of a past life. "Humans aren't allowed in outer space. It's the reason they're still unable to even populate their closest neighbouring planets. Who knew, it wasn't actually our incompetence that stopped us from doing that, it was sabotage from other races. To be fair, though, considering the human kind... _eh_ , it's a pretty reasonable argument."

Taehyung watched him abandon the tool box aside and pull on a grey shirt hanging resting on a chair's crest rail. "And what did that mean for you?"

Hoseok pulled out a snack bag from somewhere, _no one knew where_ , and stuffed himself with its contents. Nonchalant, he swallowed before answering, "Execution."

Taehyung frowned.

"No worries, though; clinically insane scientists, who shouldn't be allowed near even the lowest forms of life, saved me and enhanced me, so, that was nice," he grinned to himself, focused on his little snack. " _I'm a_ _cyborg_."

Taehyung shared a glance with Jimin and he just shrugged. He walked over to the conference table, pulled and sat on a chair, pretty disturbed, but tired of standing still.

"Any other questions, handsome?"

Taehyung stared at him. Hoseok had a sort of radiant smile on his face, a more genuine one stuck there almost nonstop. Now, _that's_ a man that ignores his problems until the last minute possible. He chuckled, thrown off by the compliment, a bit amused by his whole personality.

"Um, why did we find you almost dead?" He finally asked. He did not feel that curious about Hoseok anymore, mostly because there was nothing else he felt he needed to know about him.

"Oh, I stole something from some people in Veygar, as in the planet region we're headed, they chased me to outer space and shot me down," Hoseok snickered to himself, closing the screen's circuitry lid. "Just another Tuesday on the job," he sang and snatched the screen remote from Jin's hands abruptly to change stations.

"Which is?"

"Recycling."

"Fencing," Jimin corrected.

"I _borrow_ , I don't _steal_ ," Hoseok scoffed.

"Have you ever actually _returned_ something you've... _borrowed_?"

Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. "They never needed anything back."

"' _Notorious pusher killed in violent shootout. Are vigilantes taking over the authorities?_ ' Ha, literally no one cares that you're dead," Jimin laughed and Hoseok rolled his eyes.

"May I ask _you_ a question now, gorgeous? I mean, _it's only fair_ ," Hoseok purred while he occupied the chair across the brunet's.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, go ahead."

"Why do you still look like a human? Like, I don't really care about Jimin and Namjoon's reasons, but, compared to them, you're actually interesting and that much hotter– _ah_ –!"

Hoseok yelped when a flying magazine made contact with his shoulder.

Taehyung, for the first time in a while, scoffed. "I don't look like a human; humans look like me. Danae kin has been around far longer than any sort of life on that primitive rock."

"Okay, first of all, _ouch_. Second of all, you said Danae?" Hoseok tilted his head, expression turning sour. "No offense, but, _Danae_ _Pride_ is far worse than 10 billion bumpkins, surely you know why."

Taehyung stared for two seconds and lowered his head. Hoseok quickly reached out and held his hand.

"Don't worry, I still want to sleep with you!"

Taehyung cackled and raked fingers through his hair. At times like this he missed someone that he probably shouldn't, only to remember that, like all Danae kin, everything he touched rotted, too. And if there was a person in the vastness of their universe that didn't know what that meant, they were sure to find out soon.

" _Guys_ , we're entering Veygar's atmosphere. You should probably strap in. Or hold on to something very tightly. Or do nothing, I don't know. Do whatever."

* * *

The ship came to a seamless halt by the elevated individual dock, a mere addition to countless other aircrafts that took off or just landed in; a multistorey aircraft garage in the metropolis of unregulated goods, _Ionus_ —the distinguished jem of the _Seventeenth District_. If you could think of it, you could probably find it here.

Yoongi slammed his hand on the boarding ramp's reader and stepped out, the carved frown on his forehead subsiding with the sound of multiple weapons charging and aimed towards him. He backtracked and displayed his empty palms.

He had no energy to fight nor run, not like the odds were in his favour. The wore identical reflective visors and similar ensembles, different only in diminutive manners; where one would wear the navy-coloured flight suit properly, another would have the top lowered to their waist, excess material hung over, to reveal skin, scarred by wars and tavern fights, or/and a tank top.

Yoongi scoffed. "You were presented with the choice to get matching outfits and you selected navy blue coveralls? What a downgrade."

Someone somewhere let out a soft _uh-oh_ _,_ right before another reduced the visor back to the widget attached behind their auricle. The first familiar face among the many dramatically hidden behind masks. "Navy blue is a classy colour."

"Navy blue is black's ugly cousin, Seunkgwan," Yoongi scoffed again. "Did y'all lose a bet or something–"

Another one removed his visor, lowering his weapon with a sigh. "I _told_ you guys we shouldn't've let Gwan in on it." _Mingyu_ shook his head, unable to see Seunkgwan's glare, on purpose or not. The rest followed suit and reduced their visors, greeting him with distrustful looks. "What are you doing back here, anyways? Thought you didn't want to be associated with _criminals_."

Yoongi cringed at himself. He did say that. Lots of worse things than that, actually. Because he believed it, back then. Jungkook, too. They did use those people for personal gain and abuse their altruism; a crime is a crime, but these were never the bad guys, ready to coach new skills into a novel Obsidian like Jungkook, and even a veteran like himself.

"I need your help."

He received multiple disdainful comments and unconvinced groans. He did deserve them and he did acknowledge it'd be hard to regain their trust. If ever.

"Miss us with that bullshit, Yoongi. You wanted our help before and you abandoned us when we wanted yours. You're lucky we haven't shot you down, _yet_ ," scorned _Seungcheol_ _._

Yoongi took a sharp, impatient breath. He felt the discomfort reach him quick, but he pressed himself, his tense shoulders back, he had to. These were neither words he took lightly nor words he had ever found reason to utter.

"I'm sorry," he said and got another chorus of protesting grunts. "I _really_ am sorry. And I'm sure Jungkook is, too. I can't take back the things I've done, to you or to anyone. But I wouldn't have come here again if I didn't have to –we _exploited_ your eagerness to help. It certainly took a lot of humbling because I didn't think I could come back and stand in front of you like this."

They watched and listened to him with skepticism, not forgiving but surely interested in what he would continue to say.

"I don't just need your help, I need _you_ guys. _Please,_ " he begged, all hearts pounding in his chest.

They gave him silence, then to exchange glances.

"Where's Jungkook?" Asked Mingyu.

"He, uh, he's inside. He is who I need your help with. Well, Minghao's, to be specific," Yoongi muttered.

Eyebrows raising is certainly a sight to behold, like most of their reactions, all of which happen either at the same time or consecutively and that delay was always much funnier to observe.

"How do you know Minghao? He joined us long after you left," Soonyoung questioned.

"Dude," sighed Vernon. "The universe is _huge_... He could have literally met him _anywhere_ in those 20 years since they left us."

"Minghao was a monk living in absolute seclusion from the moment he was created until the moment he decided to sign up for this circus," Soonyoung corrected and he pursed his lips awkwardly.

Yoongi crossed his arms. "I don't know him personally, though I _was_ instructed by someone else to come and look for him in particular."

"It doesn't matter," Mingyu shook his head dismissively and then nodded. "We will help. The rest is irrelevant. If you're honestly interested, we'll catch up later. It's up to you. And if you choose to ditch us a second time, there's no helping it, I guess."

Yoongi was quick to rebut, "I won't–"

"–Don't." Seungcheol cut him. "Don't promise anything you can't own up to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to remind y'all I'm an amateur writer 😅 I have written things before(which doesn't mean I'm not an amateur) and deleted them because I could see where I was lacking and felt too insecure to continue as the WIP was or try to correct myself.
> 
> I'm sure some things will never make absolute sense in this work, but I can assure you I'm trying hard to improve and always provide you with something you will enjoy. 
> 
> It's random, I know, I'm not even sure you're going to read this. I actually a d o r e reading comments as well as replying to them, and I check the statistics too, sometimes, which in fact prompted this lengthy end note 😅 some unsubscribed and that kinda threw me off okay?🥺 It's unimportant but I do overthink everything to an extent
> 
> I know AO3 is filled to the brim with publish-worthy creators, and I don't want you to forget I'm not one, I just write to unwind and have fun alongside other lovely fans🥺


	20. What Are Responsibilities?

Jimin describing Minghao as _uncanny_ was simply the biggest understatement Yoongi'd heard in a while.

He was a healer of Kinian folk, which meant muddy blue complexion, their sole existence illusion-like. They moved slower than others, every motion lethargic, as if they operated in a different plane of existence than the rest. The details of his figure seemed elusive to Yoongi's prying scan– he could not tell if Minghao's hands were too long or too short, if he walked or slithered on the dark grey surface of the corroded flooring. According to Seungkwan, however, it was how he preserved energy until he found something that required speed and precision; living at a slower pace, phasing in and out of various realms.

But that wasn't him being uncanny. Yoongi had found himself entangled with various species too often to be weirded out by the way he looked or moved. What he actually found peculiar was the way he regarded Jungkook's statuesque figure once they entered his claimed laboratory.

There were no words shared between the Kinian and the Seventeenth, not that they were needed when an oversized garden decoration entered the medic's lab. He eyed Jungkook well before he started approaching with decelerated steps that made the rest easily uncomfortable. Anxious to see him halt where he eventually would. The silence drowning Yoongi and amplifying his uneasiness.

"Can you help me?" He finally asked, impatient.

Minghao's face creased into an expression full of grief and heartache within seconds. "I can help _him_ ," he whispered and scowled at Yoongi, "not you."

Yoongi raised a brow, snappy questions stifled back from his shaky self-composure.

Minghao let out a sob, a sorrowful whimper, and reached out to grab Jungkook's extended hand, the hand that had tried to grasp Yoongi's before turning into stone. "You must be so lonely," he cried to Jungkook, almost as if he could hold a conversation.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Jungkook isn't like that–"

"You wouldn't know that, though, would you? Do you know anything _real_ about him?" Minghao muttered, getting in Yoongi's face. " _You_ left him like that, _both_ of you," he pointed, tone categorically strict.

Minghao stepped away, the statue moving as he was, effortlessly, as though friction and gravity were mere concepts no longer applying to them. "You caused more damage than you credit yourself for."

Yoongi withdrew himself from the laboratory to stand and glare the wall across. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding.

A hand landing abruptly on his shoulder yanked him out of the bitterness of his own thoughts.

"We have a lot to talk about, Commander," Seungcheol said and moved along, an implied suggestion to follow them back to wherever they were headed.

——————

They sat and surrounded him in their sustenance room, coated in an odd kind of quiet neither party had experienced before. Because they'd sat there together before, they'd eaten there together before. They'd hung out, and they'd messed around, in more than one ways. Yet, now, they remained still, awfully reserved for people as uncontrollably energetic as them.

Joshua sighed. His motley locks had changed multiple combinations of colour from the moment he saw Yoongi exit his spacecraft until now, a very straightforward sign of his moods changing, that no one really knew how worked. "What happened, Yoongi?"

Yoongi's head sank. "I realized too late what the State was up to. I was willingly blind to nefarious schemes, and the fact that it took me so long to finally see..."

"See what? What was the _State_ up to?" Joshua asked.

Yoongi exhaled through his nose, shoulders falling to a slump. "They'd been exploring uncharted territory somewhere near the edge of the galaxy. Expansile plans to further strengthen their clasp of terror on as many planets as possible. Instead, they located a rather interesting new life form."

He reminisced that time. A younger him, not easily impressed by new and shiny things, in utter awe of the plum soils and silk oceans, lit scarcely by bioluminescent plants and the stars' seemingly tactical placement on the permanently dark skies.

"An Obsidian was compromised. That life form possessed him or something. Devoured him from the inside, starting from his mind," he shivered at the thought. "It took a while to actually realise something was wrong. So, they figured, _if_ they could ever, somehow, tame that life form and train it to do their bidding..." He trailed off and heard several groans of exasperation.

"That's seriously fucked up," exclaimed Seungkwan, like they needed him to clarify it further. "Then, what?"

Yoongi massaged his nape. Holy fuck, what had he and Taehyung done. "They managed to bring some back. Experimented on them. Last I remember before going rogue they had already done civilian testing and were close to public spreading. They had claimed the one specimen left was perfect and would help tame the rest. And that's where I and... uh, Jungkook's ex came in to ruin their plans."

"Wait," said Mingyu, "Jungkook has an ex?"

Out of everything he said. That's where he drew the line.

"... Yes."

Mingyu fiddled with his fingers. "Is he cute?"

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

"It's a very serious question."

"Is that all?" Seungcheol asked, stopping any other irrelevant small talk. "What did all of that have to do with Jungkook and him being alone?"

"Um, Jungkook was kind of still training to be an Obsidian at the time. I hadn't let him in on any of my doubts, because I had raised him to be exactly like me; fanatically loyal to the State. His mate and I teamed up to steal that one specimen, kind of screwing up on the way." He left out, though significant, how Jungkook ended up hunting down his current ex unaware of his self-sacrifice and how the only two people in his life that he cared about and cared about him had collectively decided to commit treason and never tell him anything about it.

They let it resonate in another bout of silence.

"I don't know how you do it, man," spoke Dokyeom. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone fuck up this bad on repetition."

Yoongi wiped his palms on his thighs. "I know what I've done. The burden of it is mine to deal with."

" _No_ , Yoongi, I don't think you know what you've done." Seungcheol spat. "It's been a long time, but we remember. Jungkook trusted you. He would've believed you, no matter what."

"That's the problem, S, he _shouldn't_ have. He should _never_ have," Yoongi blurted, equally riled up. "And it is my fault and I'm taking responsibility for that."

Mingyu scoffed. "Oh, boo-hoo, you. How are you taking responsibility, exactly? I've seen nothing but you brooding for things you can't change. Like, in _what_ scenario was your little rebellion supposed not mess him up?"

"I don't know, Mingyu, I don't know! I didn't know what I was doing then, and I still don't know now."

"It's not that complicated, Commander."

"Don't call me that, S. That person isn't me."

"Right, right, but it _was_ you. You can't leave who you were behind when the consequences follow you around still."

"Unless you're trying to leave Jungkook behind, too," mumbled Seungkwan nonchalant and Yoongi glanced around. It took five people to hold Seungcheol from lunging at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, hasn't it?  
> I know what I promised and I haven't forgotten about it. There are a lot of things going on and it feels as though every month that goes by, bad shit always add to them.   
> I stopped writing for a hot moment there and then I got scared of going back to writing. I question my skills constantly and it's something that only becomes worse. I don't know how other people do it. To help me get out of this breakdown, I started writing something else, safe to say that didn't help either.   
> However, I still plan to finish this before 2020 ends, no matter how good or bad it gets. I have to complete at least one thing in my life. Please, let it be this.


End file.
